LIBRARY 


University  of  California. 


^ 


QIF^X   OK 


Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALSWORTH. 

Received  October,  1894. 
^Accessions  No . S^^SJc  ^-      Class  No. 


ly 


\ 


DISCOURSES  01  THUm 


DELIVERED   IN   THE 


CHAPEL  OF  THE  SOUTH  CAROLINA  COLLEGE. 


JAMES  H.  THOMWELL,  D.D., 


PRESIDENT      AND     CHAPLAIN, 


NEW    YOKK: 

ROBERT    CARTER    &    BROTHERS, 
No.    285    BROADWAY. 

1855. 


nsM. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1854,  by 

ROBERT  CARTER  &  BROTHERS, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Waited  States,  for  the 

Southern  District  of  New  York. 


STERKOTYPED    BY  PRINT«D      BY 

THOMAS    B.    SMITH,  E.    O.    JENKINS, 

216  William  St^  N.  Y.  114  Nassau  Street. 


STUDENTS  OF  THE  SOUTH  CAROLINA  COLLEGE, 

WHOSE    HIGH    CHARACTER    FOR    TRUTH 

REFLECTS  THE  GREATEST  HONOR  UPON  THEMSELVBS 
AND  THE  STATE, 

THESE     DISCOURSES, 

ORIGINALLY    PREPARED     FOR    THEIR     BENEFIT, 
ARE    NOW    AFFECTIONATELY    INSCRIBED. 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/discoursesontrutOOtliorricli 


"^' 


This  unpretending  little  volume  consists  of  a 
series  of  Discourses,  preached  in  the  ordinary  routine 
of  the  author's  ministrations,  as  Chaplain  of  the 
South  Carolina  College.  He  has  ventured  to  pub- 
lish them,  because  the  young  men  who  heard  them 
thought  that  they  derived  benefit  from  them ;  and 
as  the  subject  is  eminently  adapted  to  the  case  of 
the  youthful  student,  it  did  not  seem  presumptuous 
to  hope,  that  what  had  been  useful  here,  might  also 
be  productive  of  good  beyond  the  walls  of  the  Col- 
lege. The  times  require  some  such  discussion  as 
that  which  is  here  attempted.  The  author  is  by  no 
means  sanguine,  however,  of  any  other  success  than 
that  which  may  be  found  in  the  cordial  approbation 
of  his  own  pupils.  They  will  accept  the  work  in 
the  spirit  in  which  it  has  been  written ;  and  if  it 
shall  have  the  effect  of  imbuing  their  minds  with 


V 


VI  PREFACE. 

that  generous  love  of  truth,  which  constitutes  the 
noblest  inspiration  of  the  scholar — ^if  it  shall  lead 
them  to  Him,  who  is  the  fountain  of  truth,  and 
to  the  study  of  that  eternal  Word,  which  is  the  only 
infallible  message  of  truth,  he  will  feel  that  he  has 
not  labored  in  vain,  whatever  reception  his  httle 
manual  may  experience  at  the  hands  of  strangers 
and  critics.  The  structure  of  the  sermons  may  be 
explained  by  the  circumstance,  that  th€  author  sus- 
tains the  double  office  in  the  College  of  a  Preacher 
of  the  Gospel,  and  a  Teacher  of  Moral  Philosophy. 
It  is  his  custom  to  make  the  pulpit  and  the  lecture- 
room  subservient  to  each  other.  ^  With  these  brief 
statements  he  sends  the  book  into  the  world  to  speak 
for  itself;  and  he  earnestly  prays  that  He  whose 
prerogative  alone  it  is  to  bless,  and  who  can  accom- 
plish the  purposes  of  His  grace,  as  well  by  the 
feeblest  as  the  mightiest  instrument,  may  make  it 
speak  with  power  to  the  understandings  and  con- 
sciences of  all  into  ^yhose  hands  it  may  chance  to 
come. 


CONTENTS 


I. 

PAOB 

THE  KTHICAL  SYSTEM  OF  THE  BIBLE 9 


II. 
THE  LOVE  OF  TRUTH 54 

m. 

THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH 94 

IV. 

SINCERITY » 140 

V. 

FAITHFULNESS 183 

VI. 
vows 239 

vn. 

CONSISTENCY 290 


C|e  «t|iral  SjJSiem  of  t|f  iiirle. 

"  Finally,  brethren,  whatsoever  things  are  true — think  on  these 
things." — Philippians,  iv.  8. 

T  -1         "^^^    passage,  of  which  these 
JDloC  1. 1 

words  are  a  part,  is  an  enumer- 
ation of  the  principal  duties  of  morality. 
The  Apostle  has  been  supposed  to  refer  to 
the  different  systems  which  were  discussed  in 
the  schools  of  Greek  philosophy,  analogous  to 
those  which  have  divided  the  inquirers  of 
modern  times.  It  is  remarkable  that  his  lan- 
guage admits  of  an  easy  application  to  the 
prominent  theories  of  virtue,  which  have  been 
proposed  in  Europe,  within  the  last  two  cen- 
turies. One,  for  example,  places  it  essentially 
in  conformity  with  truth ;  another  in  beauty, 
corresponding  perhaps  to  the  Apostle's  hon- 
esty ;    another  in  obedience    to   nature   and 

reason ;   another  in  disinterested  benevolence, 
1* 


10  THE    ETHICAL    SYSTEM 

and  others  still  in  a  comprehensive  prudence. 
Similar  theories  obtained  among  the  ancients. 
Aristotle  and  Plato  have  been  reproduced  in 
the  speculations  of  Clarke,  Cudworth  and 
Price;  the  Epicureans  and  Sophists  in  the 
Utilitarians,  and  the  Stoics  in  Butler,  Reid 
and  Stewart.  The  import  of  the  Apostle's 
advice,  upon  the  supposition  that  he  refers  to 
these  disputes,  is  interpreted  to  be; — think 
upon  these  speculations,  bring  them  to  the 
standard  of  the  Divine  testimony,  try  them 
by  the  doctrines  which  I  have  taught  you, 
and  whatsoever  they  contain  in  keeping  with 
the  genius  and  temper  of  Christianity,  that 
appropriate  and  practise.  Prove  all  things ; 
hold  fast  that  which  is  good. 

Ingenious  and  plausible  as  this  exposition 
appears  to  be,  it  is  not,  I  apprehend,  sustain- 
ed by  the  context.  It  is  rather  the  dictate  of 
fancy,  than  the  result  of  sober  and  unbiassed 
criticism.  The  design  of  the  Apostle,  it  rather 
seems  to  me,  was  to  recapitulate  several 
prominent  heads  of  duty,  to  single  out  certain 
great  characteristics  of  virtue,  and  to  recom- 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  11 

mend  every  thing  in  which  these  characteris- 
tics were  found.  He  is  giving  the  outlines 
of  an  exemplary  man,  and  accordingly  seizes 
upon  the  fundamental  elements  of  morality, 
those  data  of  consciousness  which  every  sys- 
tem must  acknowledge — which  constitute  the 
touchstone  and  standard  of  all  speculations 
upon  right, — and  inculcates  as  duty  every 
thing  in  which  these  elements  essentially  enter 
as  constituents.  The  first  is  truth ;  tvhatsoever 
things  are  true.  He  assumes  the  inherent 
rectitude  of  veracity,  its  indispensable  and 
eternal  obligation,  and  enjoins  upon  his  read- 
ers to  cultivate  a  spirit  that  shall  reverence 
and  exemplify  this  obligation  in  the  whole 
extent  of  its  application.  He  next  signalizes 
dignity  of  character,  the  principle  of  self- 
respect,  which  saves  a  man  from  the  contempt 
of  his  fellows  by  protecting  him  from  all  that 
is  little,  or  mean,  or  indecent  in  deportment. 
Whatsoever  things  are  honest  j  rather  what- 
soever things  are  venerable,  or  truly  honour- 
able; whatsoever  is  calculated  to  command 
respect    or  deserves  veneration  and  esteem. 


12  THE    ETHICAL    SYSTEM 

Then  comes  the  master-principle  of  justice, 
or  righteousness,  without  which  all  preten- 
sions to  integrity  are  vain  and  unmeaning. 
This  is  the  solid  basis  of  an  upright  charac- 
ter :  whatsoever  things  are  just.  It  is  not 
enough,  however,  that  our  words  and  actions 
should  be  exempt  from  censure — ^the  heart 
must  be  kept  with  all  diligence — the  streams 
must  be  healed  at  the  fountain.  The  Apos- 
tle, accordingly,  as  his  Master  had  done  before 
him,  insists  upon  inward  purity,  the  regula- 
tion of  the  thoughts,  appetites  and  affections, 
so  as  to  prevent  the  contamination  of  aught 
that  is  unholy  or  defiling.  Whatsoever  things 
are  jpure.  Under  this  head  are  obviously 
included  temperance,  chastity  and  modesty. 
The  things  that  are  lovely  comprehend  every- 
thing that  is  fitted  to  conciliate  or  express 
the  sentiment  of  affection  and  esteem.  It 
embraces  such  duties  as  benevolence,  urban- 
ity, courtesy,  affability  and  sweetness  of  tem- 
per. Whatever,  in  other  words,  springs  from 
love  in  us,  and  generates  love  in  others. 
The  things  of  good  rejport^  I  am  inclined  to 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  13 

think,  have  reference  to  those  matters,  in- 
different in  themselves,  by  means  of  which 
we  can  recommend  our  persons  and  our 
cause  to  the  confidence  and  good-will  of 
others.  They  not  only  require  the  ordinary 
duties  of  politeness,  but  exact  compliance 
with  innocent  customs  and  harmless  prej- 
udices, where  a  failure  to  comply  would  ex- 
pose us  to  unjust  censures.  They  exclude 
repulsive  austerity  and  studied  singularit»y 
of  manner,  and  every  species  of  affectation 
or  pretension.  Here  ends  the  specific  enu- 
meration ;  but  as  there  might  be  virtues 
which  are  included  under  none  of  these 
heads,  the  Apostle,  that  he  may  omit  no- 
thing, extends  his  injunction  to  them.  If 
there  he  any  virtue^  and  if  there  he  any 
praise — if  there  be  any  thing  which  a  good 
man  ought  to  observe — any  thing  right  or 
praise-worthy,  that  cannot  be  reduced  to  any 
of  these  categories, — it  is  to  receive  the 
Christian  man's  attention.  His  religion  com- 
prehends all  duty. 

This  passage,  then,  according  to  the  inter- 


14  THE    ETHICAL  SYSTEM 

pretation  which  has  been  given,  exhibits  the 
model  of  character  which  Christianity  pro- 
poses to  its  followers,  and  which  their  Chris- 
tian profession  exacts  of  them,  that  they  shall 
steadily  endeavour  to  realize.  It  is  the  Apos- 
tle's picture    of  an   exemplary  man. 

As  a  specimen  of  the  richness  and  compass 
of  Scripture  morality,  I  shall  single  out  the 
duty  of  Truths  and  make  it  the  subject  of 
a  series  of  discourses.  Before  entering  upon 
them,  however,  I  deem  it  not  unimportant  to 
make  a  few  remarks  upon  the  ethical  teach- 
ings of  the  Scriptures,  with  a  view  to  de- 
termine what  there  is  that  is  peculiar  to 
revelation,  and  what  is  the  real  nature  and 
extent  of  our  obligations  to  the  Bible.  This 
will  lead  us  to  a  just  estimate  of  secular 
morality,  and,  perhaps,  impress  us  with  a 
deeper  sense  of  the  priceless  value  of  the 
Gospel.  It  is  precisely  because  they  do  not 
comprehend  the  ethical  relations  of  Chris- 
t'.anity,  that  many  of  the  educated  men  of  the 
country  undervalue  its  importance.  If  asked 
what   it   is,  and  what  it  proposes  to  do  for 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  15 

men,  and  what  kind  of  offices  it  exacts 
from  them,  it  is  amazing  how  crude  and 
ill-digested  their  notions  would  oftentimes 
appear  to  be. 

1.  So  far  as  the  simple  knowledge  of  duty 
is  concerned,  we  may  err,  on  the  one  hand, 
by  exaggerating  the  necessity  of  revelation, 
and,  on  the  other,  by  exaggerating  the  suffi- 
ciency of  reason.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  morality  is  a  subject  ^hich  falls  within 
the  province  of  natural  light.  To  say  that 
we  are  dependent  on  the  word  and  oracle  of 
God,  as  Bacon  seems  to  insinuate,*  "not  only 
in  those  points  of  faith  which  concern  the 
great  mysteries  of  the  Deity,  of  the  creation, 
of  the  redemption,  but  likewise  those  which 
concern  the  law  moral  truly  interpreted;"  to 
say  that  we  can  have,  from  the  dictates  of 
conscience,  only  negative  conceptions  of  rec- 
titude "  sufficient  to  check  the  vice,  but  not 
to  inform  the  duty,"  is  to  contradict  alike 
the    testimony    of   Scripture  and  the    expe- 

*  Advancement  of  Learning.     Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  300. — Mon- 
tagu. 


^ 


16  THE    ETHICAL    SYSTEM 

rience  of  mankind.  "  For,  when  the  Gentiles, 
which  have  not  the  law,  do  by  nature  the 
things  contained  in  the  law,  these  having 
not  the  law  are  a  law  unto  themselves."  A 
being  without  the  sense  of  obligation,  and 
a  spontaneous  recognition  of  the  fundamental 
differences  of  right  and  wrong,  could  not  be 
responsible.  He  could  not  form  the  remotest 
notion  of  duty,  and  the  language  of  authority 
and  law  might  as  well  be  addressed  to  stocks 
and  stones.  The  elemental  principles  of  right, 
therefore,  which  are  involved  in  the  very 
conception  of  a  moral  nature,  must  be  con- 
ceded to  man  as  man.  They  are  the  birth- 
rights of  his  being,  and  not  the  legacy  of  a 
subsequent  revelation.  An  intelligent  crea- 
ture, without  primitive  beliefs  to  determine 
and  regulate  the  operations  of  the  cognitive 
faculties,  would  be  no  greater  absurdity 
than  a  moral  and  responsible  creature  with- 
out primitive  laws  of  right  to  determine  and 
regulate  the  operations  of  moral  judgment. 
But  it  is  equally  an  error  to  maintain  that, 
because  the  Scriptures  presuppose  the  moral 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  17 

constitution  of  man,  they  are  of  little  or  no 
importance,  considered  as  a  rule  of  life.  It 
is  one  thing  to  say  that  reason  is  a  law,  and 
another  to  say  that  it  is  a  perfect  law.  In 
our  present  fallen  condition,  it  is  impossible 
to  excogitate  a  standard  of  duty  which  shall 
be  warped  by  none  of  our  prejudices,  dis- 
torted by  none  of  our  passions,  and  corrupted 
by  none  of  our  habits.  We  are  liable  to  as 
great  perversions  of  the  original  principles 
of  right  as  of  the  original  principles  of 
truth.  The  elements  of  reason  have  no 
power  to  secure  their  just  application.  There 
never  has  appeared  an  absolutely  perfect  rule 
of  duty  among  any  nations,  however  civilized 
and  cultivated,  that  were  destitute  of  revela- 
tion. It  is  only  of  the  law  of  the  Lord,  as 
contained  in  the  Scriptures,  that  we  can  justly 
say,  it  is  perfect.  There  are  two  respects  in 
which  every  natural  system  of  morality  is 
likely  to  be  found  wanting.  In  the  first  place, 
the  dif&culty  of  re-producing  in  reflection  the 
spontaneous  processes  of  conscience,  and  of 
seizing  upon   its  fundamental  laws   in   their 


v 


18  THE    ETHICAL     SYSTEM 

integrity  and  completeness,  renders  it  rext 
to  impossible,  that  the  verbal  generalizations 
of  philosophy  shall  exactly  represent  the  oper- 
ations of  the  mind.  Something  is  apt  to  be 
omitted  or  added.  The  danger  is  enhanced 
by  the  difficulty  of  distinguishing  betwixt 
prejudices  of  education  and  natural  principles ; 
it  is  easy  to  confound  a  crotchet  with  a 
principle,  to  make  a  maxim  of  a  habit  of 
thought.  In  the  next  place,  the  application 
of  these  fundamental  laws,  supposing  them 
properly  eliminated,  to  the  concrete  cases  of 
life,  requires  great  delicacy  and  caution.  We 
are  as  likely  to  go  wrong,  from  misapplying  a 
true  principle,  as  from  adopting  a  false  one. 
The  heathen  father  admits  the  great  law  of 
parental  affection ;  he  misapplies  it  when  he 
murders  his  infant  child,  to  save  him  from 
the  miseries  of  life.  The  heathen  son  recog- 
nizes the  duty  of  filial  piety  ;  he  reasons  badly 
upon  it  when  he  puts  his  aged  parents  to 
death.  Here  our  depravity  exerts  its  power ; 
it  is  a  constant  temptation  to  pervert  the 
original  principle  of  right,  to  make  light  dark- 


OF     THE     BIBLE.  19 

ness,  and  darkness  light.  It  is  here,  too,  that 
the  principal  defects  of  every  natural  scheme 
of  morality  are  exhibited.  True  principles 
are  falsely  applied.  We  make  crimes  of  duties 
and  duties  of  crimes.  It  is  not  so  much  that 
the  law  is  wrong ;  that  the  prime  data  are 
questionable,  though  they  are  often  defective, 
as  that  the  law  is  not  legitimately  carried  out 
— its  proper  applications  are  not  seen — limit- 
ations and  exceptions  are  superinduced  by 
our  circumstances,  and  we  envelope  ourselves 
in  a  cloud,  and  the  result  is,  that  a  deceived 
heart  turns  us  aside.  The  Scriptures,  as  an 
authoritative  rule  of  duty,  guard  against  these 
defects.  They  prescribe  the  law  in  its  ful- 
ness and  integrity — they  illustrate  its  appli- 
cation by  description  and  example — they  in- 
dicate the  prejudices  which  are  likely  to  per- 
vert us,  and  signalize  the  spirit  which  will 
always  ensure  obedience.  By  the  infallibility 
of  their  results,  they  are  of  inestimable  value 
to  the  moral  philosopher  himself  When  his 
speculations  contradict  their  statements,  he 
knows  that  there  is  an  error  in  his  processes 


20  THE     ETHICAL     SYSTEM 

— he  retraces  his  steps  and  con  dnues  to 
renew  his  investigations,  until  he  discovers 
the  secret  of  his  miscarriage.  They  serve  the 
same  purpose  to  him,  which  the  answer  to 
its  sum  serves  to  the  child  in  learning  its 
arithmetic.  They  are  at  once  a  guide  and  a 
check  to  his  speculations.  Paley*  has  dep- 
reciated the  sufficiency  of  the  Scriptures  as  a 
rule,  from  the  absurd  notion,  that  if  they  were 
admitted  to  be  complete,  they  would  dispense 
with  the  use  of  moral  philosophy.  He  took 
it  for  granted  that  the  sole  business  of  phi- 
losophy was  to  furnish  rules ;  and,  of  course, 
if  they  are  already  furnished  to  our  hands, 
there  is  no  need  for  its  investigations.  To 
save,  therefore,  the  credit  of  the  science 
which  he  had  undertaken  to  expound,  he 
has  impugned  the  value  of  the  ethical  teach- 
ings of  the  Bible.  His  argument  is  curious ; 
he  has  very  singularly  confounded  moral 
philosophy  with  the  moral  constitution  of 
man,  and  because  the  Scriptures  "  presuppose, 
in  the  persons  to  whom  they  speak,  a  knowl* 

*  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy.    Book  i.  chap.  4. 


OF    THE     BIBLE.  21 

edge  of  the  principles  of  natural  justice;" 
that  is,  because  they  pre-suppose  a  conscience, 
or  a  sense  of  the  fundamental  differences  of 
right  and  wrong,  he  gravely  concludes,  that 
they  exact  of  men,  in  order  to  be  understood, 
some  tincture  of  philosophy.  But  it  is  one 
thing  to  be  a  moral  agent,  and  quite  another 
to  be  a  moral  philosopher.  The  Scriptures 
certainly  expect  that  those  to  whom  they 
speak,  are  possessed  of  those  principles  of 
practical  common  sense,  without  which  their 
instructions  are  utterly  unmeaning  and  absurd. 
But  to  possess  these  principles  is  not  to  be  a 
philosopher.  Philosophy  implies  reflection, 
speculation — it  is  thought  questioning  the 
spontaneous  processes  of  mind — thought  re- 
turning upon  itself,  and  seeking  the  nature, 
authority  and  criterion  of  its  own  laws.  A 
man  may  have  all  that  Dr.  Paley  ascribes  to 
him,  without  having  once  reflected  upon  the 
mysterious  furniture,  or  asked  himself  a  single 
question,  which  properly  belongs  to  the  do- 
main of  philosophy.  The  Scriptures,  conse- 
quently, in  prescribing  an  adequate  and  per- 


22'  THE    ETHICAL    SYSTEM 

feet  rule  of  life,  are  far  from  dispensing  with 
speculation.  They  leave  untouched  its  pe- 
culiar work.  The  moral  nature,  in  its  phe- 
nomenal variety  and  essential  unity,  still  in- 
vites the  researches  of  the  curious ;  and  the 
more  it  is  studied,  the  more  conspicuous  will 
appear  the  absolute  sufficiency  of  the  Bible. 
The  law  of  the  Lord  is  perfect. 

2.  The  superior  efficiency  of  the  Bible  is 
universally  conceded  by  all  who  admit  a  reve- 
lation at  all.  It  teaches  duty  with  greater  cer- 
tainty, and  enforces  it  by  motives  of  greater 
power.  Dr.  Paley  thinks  this  the  great  merit 
of  the  Scriptures;  and  that  it  is  a  merit  of 
incalculable  importance,  will  at  once  appear, 
by  reflecting  on  the  tendency  of  temptation 
to  blind  the  mind  to  the  truth  of  the  law,  or 
the  danger  of  the  consequences.  Whatever 
certifies  the  rule,  or  illustrates  the  misery  of 
disobedience,  assaults  temptation  in  its  strong 
hold,  and  strips  transgression  of  its  favourite 
plea.  The  certainty  of  the  law  is  put  beyond 
question  in  the  Scriptures,  because  it  rests 
upon  the  immediate  authority  of  God.      It  is 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  23 

not  a  deduction  of  reason  to  be  questioned, 
but  a  Divine  command  to  be  obeyed.  The 
power  of  the  sanctions  is  found  in  the  unlimit- 
ed control  which  He,  who  promulgates  the 
law,  possesses  of  the  invisible  world.  The 
legal  motives  of  the  Scriptures  are  projected 
on  a  scale  of  inconceivable  grandeur.  The 
Bible  deals  with  the  vast,  the  awful,  the  bound- 
less. If  it  addresses  our  hopes  and  proposes 
the  prospect  of  future  happiness,  it  is  an  ex- 
ceeding, an  eternal  weight  of  glory  it  dispen- 
ses. Does  it  remind  us  of  a  judgment  to  come  ? 
God  is  the  Judge,  earth  and  hell  the  subjects ; 
angels  spectators,  and  the  complexion  of 
eternity  the  doom.  Does  it  address  our  fears  ? 
It  reminds  us  of  a  worm  that  never  dies — a 
fire  that  is  never  quenched — the  blackness  of 
darkness  forever.  It  is  a  grand  system ;  it 
springs  from  the  bosom  of  an  infinite  God,  and 
opens  a  field  of  infinite  interests.  Eternity 
is  the  emphasis  it  gives  to  its  promises,  the 
terror  it  imparts  to  its  curse.  Conscience, 
under  the  tuition  of  nature,  may  dread  the 
future;   it  is   the   prerogative   of  revelation 


24  THE    ETHICAL    SYSTEM 

alone  to  lay  it  bare.  Conscience  may  tremble, 
but  revelation  alone  can  show  how  justly  its 
fears  have  been  excited.  Hence  the  Bible  is 
without  a  rival,  when  it  speaks  in  the  lan- 
guage of  command.  It  wields  the  thunder 
of  infinite  power,  as  well  as  utters  the  voice 
of  infinite  righteousness.  Still,  its  mightiest 
sanctions  are  not  what  may  be  be  called 
its  legal  motives.  The  scheme  of  redemp- 
tion, in  its  conception  and  evolution,  is  a 
sublime  commentary  upon  the  sacredness 
and  supremacy  of  right,  which,  while  it  re- 
veals the  ineffable  enormity  of  sin,  presents 
the  character  of  God  in  such  an  aspect  of 
venerable  grandeur,  that  holiness  becomes 
awful  and  majestic,  and  we  insensibly  adore 
under  the  moral  impression  which  it  makes. 
He  that  stands  beneath  the  cross  and  under- 
stands the  scene,  dares  not  sin — not  because 
there  is  a  hell  beneath  him,  or  an  angry  God 
above  him,  but  because  holiness  is  felt  to 
reign  there — the  ground  on  which  he  treads 
is  sacred — the  glory  of  the  Lord  encircles 
him,  and,  like  Moses,   he   must   remove   the 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  26 

shoes  from  his  feet.  The  cross  is  a  venerable 
spot;  I  love  to  linger  around  it,  not  merely 
that  I  may  read  my  title  to  everlasting  life, 
but  that  I  may  study  the  greatness  of  God.  I 
use  the  term  advisedly.  God  never  appears 
to  be  so  truly  great,  so  intensely  holy,  as 
when,  from  the  pure  energy  of  principle.  He 
gives  Himself,  in  the  person  of  His  Son,  to 
die,  rather  than  that  his  character  should  be 
impugned.  Who  dares  prevaricate  with  moral 
distinctions,  and  talk  of  death  as  a  greater 
evil  than  dishonour,  when  God,  the  mighty 
Maker,  died  rather  than  that  truth  or  justice 
should  be  compromised  ?  Who,  at  the  foot 
of  Calvary,  can  pronounce  sin  to  be  a  slight 
matter  ?  Here,  then,  lies  the  most  impressive 
sanction  of  Revelation.  Not  content  to  pro- 
mulgate the  law  with  absolute  certainty,  to 
put  under  tribute  the  whole  resources  of  the 
invisible  world,  to  lay  its  hand  upon  eternity, 
and  make  heaven  and  hell  its  ministers ;  it 
rises  yet  higher,  and  seeks  to  impress  us  with 
a  subduing  sense  of  the  sacredness  of  right — 
to  make  us  feel  how  awful  goodness  is ;    it 


26  THE    ETHICAL    SYSTEM 

reveals  its  inherent  greatness — unveils  its 
ineffable  glory.  It  does  not  describe  it,  but 
shows  it,  and  we  return  from  the  cross  with 
emotions  similar  to  those  of  Moses,  when  the 
name  of  the  Lord  was  proclaimed,  and  the 
goodness  of  the  Lord  passed  before  him  in 
the  cleft  of  the  rock.  It  is  the  scheme  of 
redemption  which  crowns  the  ethical  teach- 
ings of  the  Bible.  The  lesson  is  sealed  at 
the  cross — there,  and  there  only,  do  we  shud- 
der at  sin  for  its  own  sake,  and  reverence 
right  for  itself 

3.  But,  impressive  as  the  general  truths  of 
morality  are  rendered  by  the  tragedy  of  re- 
demption, that  would  be  an  inadequate  view 
of  the  extent  of  its  contributions,  which 
stopped  at  this  point.  It  goes  beyond  giv- 
ing certainty  and  power  to  the  doctrines  of 
nature.  It  teaches  lessons,  and  lessons  of  in- 
calculable value,  which  philosophy  could 
never  have  dreamed  of  It  opens  a  new 
chapter  in  the  book  of  Ethics,  and  invites 
us  to  speculations  as  refreshing  by  their 
novelty  as  they  are  invigorating  by  their  truth. 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  27 

It  is  not  sufficiently  recollected  that  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Scriptures  in  relation  to  the  des- 
tiny of  man,  the  nature  of  holiness,  and  the 
means  of  grace,  are  answers  to  the  very  ques- 
tions which  were  earnestly  and  anxiously 
agitated  in  the  schools  of  ancient  wisdom,  and 
which  the  sages  of  Greece  and  Rome  proved 
themselves  incompetent  to  solve.  I  am 
ashamed  to  add,  that  they  are  answers  which 
multitudes,  with  the  Bible  in  their  hands, 
have  failed  to  comprehend,  and  have  con- 
sequently been  left  to  grope,  as  if  struck  by 
judicial  blindness,  in  a  thicker  darkness  than 
ever  enshrouded  the  gifted  minds  of  pagan- 
ism. There  is  a  tenfold  nearer  approxima- 
tion to  the  teachings  of  the  Bible  in  Aristotle 
than  there  is  in  Paley — more  affinity  with  the 
Gospel  in  Cicero  than  in  the  whole  tribe  of 
utilitarians. 

1.  First,  in  regard  to  happiness,  which  is 
universally  conceded  to  be  the  chief  good  of 
man,  the  conceptions  of  the  Scriptures  are 
noble  and  exalted.  The  nearest  approxima- 
tion which  has  been  made  by  unassisted  rea- 


28  THE    ETHICAL     SYSTEM 

son  to  their  doctrine,  is  in  the  philosophy 
of  Aristotle.  He  failed  to  compass  the  whole 
truth,  only  because  man,  by  wisdom,  cannot 
find  out  God.  He  saw  enough,  however,  to 
impress  us  with  a  sense  of  the  greatness  of 
his  genius,  and  to  make  us  feel  that,  even 
amid  the  ruins  of  the  fall,  there  are  yet  traces 
of  our  ancient  grandeur,  and  dim  forebodings 
of  our  future  glory.  He  has  taught  us 
enough  to  make  us  accept  joyfully  those  fuller 
disclosures  of  the  Bible  which  illuminate  what 
in  him  and  nature  is  dark,  and  "what  is  low 
raise  and  support." 

I  do  not  know  that  I  can  set  the  benefit  of 
revelation  in  a  clearer  light  than  by  sketching 
the  doctrine  of  Aristotle,  pointing  out  its 
defects,  and  contrasting  the  whole  truth  with 
the  miserable  sentiments  which  prevail,  to  the 
corruption  of  society  and  the  degradation  of 
the  age  in  which  we  live.  His  fundamental 
notion  is,  that  happiness  consists  in  virtuous 
energies — that  it  is  not  mere  pleasure — not 
the  gratification  which  results  from  the  pos- 
session of  an  object  congruous  to  our  desires. 


OF     THE     BIBLE.  29 

That  is  good  only  in  a  very  subordinate  sense, 
which  simply  ministers  to  enjoyment.  The 
chief  good  must  be  something  pursued  ex- 
clusively for  its  own  sake,  and  never  for  the 
sake  of  anything  else ;  it  can  never  be  used 
as  an  instrument ;  it  must  be  perfect  and  self- 
sufficient.  What,  then,  is  the  highest  good 
of  man  ?  To  answer  this  question,  says  Aris- 
totle, we  must  understand  the  proper  business 
of  man,  as  man.  As  there  is  a  work  which 
pertains  to  the  musician,  the  statuary,  the 
artist,  which  constitues  the  good  or  end  of 
his  profession,  so  there  must  be  some  work 
which  belongs  to  man,  not  as .  an  individual, 
not  as  found  in  such  and  such  circumstances 
and  relations,  but  belongs  to  him  absolutely  as 
man.  Now,  what  is  this?  It  must  be  some- 
thing which  springs  from  the  peculiarities 
of  his  nature,  and  which  he  cannot  share 
with  the  lower  orders  of  being.  It  cannot, 
therefore,  be  life, — for  plants  have  that; 
neither  can  it  be  the  pleasures  of  sensitive 
existence,  for  brutes  have  them.  It  must  be 
sought  in  the  life  of  a  being  possessed  of 


30  THE     ETHICAL     SYSTEM 

reason ;  and  as  that  can  be  contemplated  in  a 
two-fold  aspect,  either  as  a  state,  or  as  an  ex- 
ercise ;  as  the  possession  of  faculties,  or  the 
putting  forth  of  their  activities ;  we  must  pitch 
upon  the  most  important,  which  is  activity  or 
energy,  or  as  he  also  styles  it,  obedience  to  rea- 
son. Energy,  therefore,  according  to  reason, 
is  characteristic  of  man.  This  is  his  business, 
and  he  who  pursues  it  best,  is  the  best  man. 
Human  good,  or  the  good  of  man  as  man,  is 
consequently  energy  according  to  the  best 
and  most  perfect  virtue. 

This  is  a  brief  outline  of  what  I  regard 
as  one  of  the  -finest  discussions  in  the  whole 
compass  of  ancient  philosophy.*  The  no- 
tion is  predominant  that  happiness  implies 
the  perfection  of  our  nature,  and  that  per- 
fection, not  so  much  in  the  habits  consider- 
ed as  so  many  states,  but  in  the  unimpeded 
exercise  of  the  faculties  themselves.  The 
being  properly  exerted  is  their  good.  Hap- 
piness, therefore,  is  not  something  impart- 
ed  to   the    soul    from    without — it    springs 

*  Nichom.    Etliicks.    Lib.  i.  c.  7. 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  81 

from  the  soul  itself — it  is  the  very  glow 
of  its  life.  It  is  to  the  mind  what  health 
is  to  the  body — the  regular  and  harmonious 
action  of  all  the  functions  of  the  frame. 
It  is  not  a  gratification,  not  the  pleasure 
which  results  from  the  correspondence  be- 
tween an  object  and  a  faculty — ^it  is  the 
very  heat  and  fervour  of  spiritual  life.  All 
this  *  is  strikingly  in  accordance  with  the 
doctrine  of  Scripture.  Happiness  there,  too, 
is  represented  as  consisting  in  moral  per- 
fection, and  moral  perfection  in  virtuous 
energies.  It  is  a  well  of  water  within  the 
man,  springing  up  to  everlasting  life.  It  is 
treated  as  an  image  of  the  blessedness  of 
God;  and  when  we  remember  the  ceaseless 
activity  of  the  Divine  nature — my  Father 
worketli  hitherto  and  I  luorJc — there  cannot 
be  a  more  convincing  proof  that  felicity 
consists  in  energies.  To  be  happy  is  not  to 
be  torpid;  it  is  not  a  state  of  indolent  re- 
pose, nor  of  the  passive  reception  of  ex- 
traneous influences.  It  is  to  be  like  God, 
who  never  slumbers  nor  sleeps,  who  fainteth 


32  THE    ETHICAL   SYSTEM 

not,  neither  is  weary.  This  is  the  great 
thought  of  the  Bible.  The  defect  of  Aristotle 
lies  in  this,  that  he  has  not  explained  how 
these  virtuous  energies  are  to  be  elicited 
and  sustained  in  a  course  of  unimpeded  ac- 
tion. We  cannot  think  without  thinking 
something  ;  we  cannot  love,  we  cannot  praise, 
we  cannot  exercise  any  virtuous  affection, 
without  exercising  it  upon  something.  An 
abstraction  wants  life,  and  finite  objects 
limit,  condition,  and  obstruct  our  energies. 
Besides  this,  as  we  shall  subsequently  see,  the 
fundamental  principle  of  virtue  is  love,  and 
love  implies  the  existence  of  a  person  with 
whom  we  are  united  in  intimate  fellowship. 
Communion  is  indispensable  to  the  energy 
of  holiness,  and  that  the  energy  may  be  un- 
impeded, the  person  with  whom  we  are  in 
union,  must  be  worthy  of  the  intensest  affec- 
tions of  which  we  are  susceptible.  He  must 
himself  be  the  perfect  good.  Now,  the  Scrip- 
tures propose  the  fellowship  of  God  as  the 
consummation  of  felicity.  We  may  concen- 
trate upon  Him  all  the  faculties  of  our  nature. 


OF     THE     BIBLE.  33 

He  can  evoke  their  intensest  activities — give 
them  full  scope,  and  never  put  a  period  to 
their  flow.  His  favour  is  life^  and  His  loving- 
kindness  better  than  life.  I  shall  be  satisfied 
when  I  awake  in  thy  likeness.  That  man's 
chief  end  is  to  glorify  God,  and  enjoy  Him 
forever — that  this  and  this  only  is  happiness  ; 
that  we  enjoy  as  we  glorify ;  that  the  very 
going  forth  of  our  energies  upon  Him,  the 
ever-blessed,  is  itself  blessedness — this  is  the 
doctrine  which  lies  at  the  basis  of  the  ethical 
system  of  the  Gospel.  It  is  a  doctrine  which 
philosophy  never  could  have  discovered,  but 
which  it  pronounces  to  be  just  as  soon  as  the 
terms  are  understood.  We  are  so  familiar 
with  the  statement  of  it,  we  have  it  so  often 
on  our  lips,  or  hear  it  so  often  from  the  desk, 
that  we  do  not  enter  into  the  depth  of  mean- 
ing it  contains.  In  itself  it  is  a  grand 
thought — a  noble  and  exalted  privilege.  Fel- 
lowship with  God!  the  real  communion  of 
our  minds  with  His — what  tongue  can  ex- 
press it — what  heart  adequately  conceive  it ! 

and  yet  this  honour  have  all  the  saints.     It  is 

2* 


34  THE    ETHICAL    SYSTEM 

not  a  figure,  not  a  flourish  of  rhetoric, — no 
dream  of  the  mystic.  It  is  a  great  fact ;  and 
in  reflecting  upon  it,  I  have  often  been  im- 
pressed with  the  words  of  a  dying  saint : 
"Preach  it  at  my  funeral,  publish  it  at  my 
burial,  that  the  Lord  converses  familiarly  with 
man."  His  secret  is  indeed  with  them  that 
fear  Him,  and  He  will  show  them  His  cove- 
nant. How  coarse  and  degrading,  by  the  side 
of  this  doctrine,  do  those  views  of  happiness 
appear,  which  make  it  consist  in  pleasure! 
which,  instead  of  setting  man  upon  the  im- 
provement of  himself,  the  perfection  of  his 
nature,  and  the  expansion  of  his  energies 
in  communion  with  God,  sends  him  in  quest 
of  the  beggarly  elements  of  earth,  which  all 
are  to  perish  in  the  using.  There  cannot 
be  a  greater  obstruction  to  the  pursuit  of 
real  happiness,  than  the  love  of  pleasure.  It 
relaxes  and  debilitates  the  mind — destroys  the 
tone  of  the  spirit — superinduces  languor  upon 
all  the  faculties;  it  is  the  grave  of  energy. 
Hence  is  that  of  Scripture  ;  she  that  liveth  in 
pleasure  is  dead  while  she  liveth.    If  happiness 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  35 

is  an  adumbration  of  the  blessedness  of  God — 
and  it  must  be  so, — if  it  is  the  glory  of  man 
to  bear  the  image  of  God — the  whole  subject 
is  manifestly  degraded,  when  it  is  reduced  to 
the  analogy  of  the  enjoyment  of  a  brute.  Take 
the  account  which  is  given  by  Paley,*  and 
happiness  consists  not  only  in  a  succession  of 
pleasurable  sensations,  but  sensations  imme- 
diately connected  with  the  body.  It  is  a  sort 
of  tickling  in  the  region  of  the  heart.  He 
openly  declares,  too,  that  there  is  no  essential 
difference  among  pleasures  but  that  of  in- 
tensity and  continuance.  The  main  thing  is 
enjoyment ;  and  so  a  man  enjoys  himself,  he 
need  ask  no  further  question.  The  superiority 
of  the  soul  to  the  body,  the  coarseness  of 
some,  and  the  excellence  of  other  pleasures 
— the  dignity  and  refinement  of  moral,  in- 
tellectual and  spiritual  gratifications — all  this 
is  idle  declamation.  He  that  scratches  with  ' 
the  itch,  experiences  as  noble  satisfaction  as 
he  that  rejoices  in  charity,  or  whose  soul  ,yy 
turns  upon  the  poles  of  truth.     This  funda- 

*  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy.    Book  i.,  chap.  6. 


86  THE    ETHICAL   SYSTEM 

mental  error,  that  happiness  is  pleasure,  per- 
vades society.  It  is  the  animating  spirit  of 
the  eager  and  restless  struggle  for  wealth, 
honour  and  power.  It  is  the  grand  delusion 
of  sin;  a  delusion,  whose  potent  speU  no 
experience  has  been  able  to  dissolve — no 
reasoning  to  dissipate.  It  is  the  vanity  of  the 
carnal  heart,  "  every  age  renews  the  inquiry 
after  an  earthly  felicity — the  design  is  entail- 
ed, and  re-inforced  with  as  great  a  confidence 
and  vigour  as  if  none  had  been  baffled  or  de- 
feated in  it  before."  Philanthropy  projects 
upon  it  its  visionary  schemes  for  the  benefit 
of  the  race,  and  forgetting  that  all  real  im- 
provement must  begin  within,  directs  its  as- 
saults upon  the  outward  and  accidental — aims 
its  blows  at  the  social  fabric,  and  seeks  to  in- 
troduce an  order  of  things  which  shall  equal- 
ly distribute  the  sources  of  enjoyment.  Let 
all  men  be  equally  rich,  is  the  insidious  fal- 
lacy,— equally  fed,  equally  clothed,  equally 
exalted  in  social  and  political  condition,  and 
like  cattle  in  the  same  pasture,  they  must 
all  be  equally  happy.     "What  serious  heart 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  87 

doth  not  melt  and  bleed  for  miserable  men, 
that  are  through  a  just  Nemesis  so  perpetually 
mocked  with  shadows,  cheated  with  false, 
delusive  appearances,  infatuated  and  betrayed 
by  their  own  senses.  They  walk  but  in  a 
vain  show,  disquieting  themselves  in  vain, 
their  days  flee  away  as  a  shadow;  their 
strength  is  only  labour  and  sorrow;  while 
they  rise  up  early  and  lie  down  late  to  seek 
rest  in  trouble,  and  life  in  death.""  Behold  I 
show  you  a  more  excellent  way ; — fear  God 
and  keep  his  commandments — for  this  is  the 
whole  of  man;  this  is  his  being's  end  and 
aim. 

2.  Intimately  connected  with  the  subject 
of  happiness  is  that  of  holiness.  As  happiness 
is  an  image  of  the  blessedness,  so  holiness  is 
an  image  of  the  moral  perfections  of  God.  It 
is,  consequently,  that,  in  the  energies  of  which, 
happiness  must  essentially  consist.  It  is  God's 
likeness  that  fits  us  to  see  His  face.  It  is, 
therefore,  a  matter  of  the  very  last  importance 
that  we  should  know  what  holiness  is ;  or,  if 

*  Howe's  Blessedness  of  the  Righteous,  chap.  11. 


38  THE     ETHICAL     SYSTEM 

incomprehensible  in  its  essence,  that  we  should 
understand  its  phenomena  and  relations.  It 
is  only  from  the  Bible  that  we  can  obtain 
any  satisfactory  light  upon  these  points. 
Philosophy  can  discourse  of  virtues — virtues 
in  the  habit  and  virtues  in  the  act — it  can 
classify  and  arrange  the  duties  they  exact ; 
but  when  the  question  arises  as  to  the  unity 
of  rectitude,  it  is  utterly  unable  to  answer. 
Truth  is  right,  justice  is  right,  benevolence  is 
right,  temperance  is  right,  the  habits  which 
prompt  to  the  observance  of  these  virtues  are 
right ;  but  are  all  these  one  and  the  same 
right  ?  If  one,  in  what  does  their  unity  con- 
sist? The  actions  of  truth  are  certainly  dif- 
ferent from  those  of  temperance  ;  the  actions 
of  benevolence  are  as  clearly  different  from 
those  of  justice ;  the  habits  are  obviously  so 
many  different  subjective  states.  Where, 
then,  is  the  unity,  and  why  is  the  same  term 
applied  in  common  to  them  all  ?  Philosophy 
can  only  dissect  consciousness,  and  conscious- 
ness can  only  reveal  to  us  the  primitive  cog- 
nition«  of  the  moral  faculty,  which  the  consti- 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  39 

tution  of  our  nature  compels  to  accept  as  the 
criteria  of  right.  Philosophy,  consequently, 
can  give  no  other  answer  to  the  question,  than 
that  all  these  things,  though  various  in  them- 
selves, receive  a  common  name  in  consequence 
of  a  common  relation  to  conscience.  They  are 
all  commanded  by  it.  As  truth  is  essentially 
conformity  with  the  laws  of  the  understanding, 
so  virtue  is  essentially  conformity  with  the 
laws  of  conscience.  Here  philosophy  stops. 
Beyond  consciousness  it  cannot  penetrate; 
and  though  it  may  surmise  that  there  is  a 
higher  unity  in  which  all  these  laws  are  ulti- 
mately grounded,  it  is  unable  to  lay  its  hand 
upon  it,  and  bring  it  to  light.  Here  the 
Scriptures  come  in  with  their  doctrine  of 
holiness  ;  and  what  philosophy  had  surmised, 
they  abundantly  confirm.  What,  then,  is 
holiness  ?  It  is  not  a  single  habit ;  it  is  not  a 
complement  of  habits ; — it  is  a  nature,  and  by 
nature  we  are  to  understand,  not  the  collection 
of  properties,  which  distinguish  one  being 
from  another,  but  a  generic  disposition  which 
determines,  modifies  and  regulates  all  its  ac- 


40  THE    ETHICAL    SYSTEM 

tivities  and  states — the  law  of  its  mode  of 
existence.  It  is  that  out  of  which  habit 
grows,  from  which  every  single  action  ulti- 
mately proceeds.  There  is  a  nature  in  the 
lion,  the  dog,  the  tiger,  which  determines  their 
manner  of  life — a  nature  in  all  beings,  which 
makes  them  as  they  are.  Without  it  there 
could  be  no  character,  no  habits,  no  consistent 
operations.  All  action  would  be  fortuitous 
and  arbitrary.  In  itself  we  canngt  define  it, 
belonging  as  it  does  to  that  class  of  things 
which,  incomprehensible  in  themselves,  and 
incapable  of  being  represented  in  thought, 
are  yet  matters  of  necessary  belief  But  as 
there  are,  within  the  sphere  of  our  daily  ex- 
perience, various  generic  dispositions,  each 
of  which  serves  as  the  basis  of  very  different 
habits,  there  is  nothing  incredible  in  suppos- 
ing that  there  may  be  one  great  central  dis- 
position, in  which  all  others  are  grounded. 
The  general  temper  of  sadness  has  numberless 
manifestations  ;  the  same  is  true  of  joy ;  and 
there  may  be  a  temper  or  tone  of  mind  in 
which  all  virtuous  activities  are  united.     To 


OFTHEBIBLE.  41 

illustrate  the  all-pervading  influence  of  holi- 
ness as  a  nature,  the  Scriptures  employ  the 
striking  analogy  of  life.  When  we  ask  the 
question  what  is  life,  we  soon  become  sen- 
sible that  we  are  dealing  with  a  subject  that 
eludes  the  capacity  of  thought.  We  cannot 
seize  it  in  itself;  we  see  its  effects;  we  wit- 
ness its  operations ;  we  can  mark  the  symp- 
toms which  distinguish  its  presence.  But  the 
thing  itself  no  mortal  mind  can  apprehend. 
We  can  only  speak  of  it  as  the  unknown  cause 
of  numberless  phenomena  which  we  notice. 
Where  is  life  ?  Is  it  here  and  not  there  ?  Is 
it  there  and  not  here  ?  Is  it  in  the  heart,  the 
head,  the  hands,  the  feet  ?  It  evidently  per- 
vades the  man — it  is  the  condition,  the  in- 
dispensable condition  of  the  organic  action  of 
every  part  of  the  frame.  The  body  may  be 
perfect  in  its  structure :  it  may  have  every 
limb,  and  nerve,  and  muscle,  and  foreign  in- 
fluences may  be  made  to  mimic  the  operations 
of  life ;  but  if  life  be  not  there,  these  actions, 
or  rather  motions,  are  essentially  distinct  from 
those   of  the  living   man.      In  like  manner 


*m  THE    ETHICAL    SYSTEM 

holiness  pervades  the  soul.  Though  not  a 
habit,  nor  a  collection  of  habits,  it  is  the  in- 
dispensable condition  of  them  all.  It  is  not 
here  nor  there,  but  is  diiFused  through  the 
whole  man — the  understanding,  the  will,  the 
conscience,  the  affections — it  underlies  all 
dispositions  and  habitudes,  and  is  felt  in  all 
the  thoughts  and  desires.  All  moral  qualities 
inhere  in  it,  as  properties  inhere  in  substance. 
It  is  to  the  moral  faculties  of  man  what  ex- 
tension is  to  matter — the  very  form  of  their 
existence. 

As  natural  life  has  its  characteristic  func- 
tions, so  spiritual  life  has  its  distinguishing 
tendencies.  They  all  point  to  God.  The 
very  essence  of  a  holy  nature  is  sympathy 
with  the  Divine  perfections — a  state  of  the 
soul  which  harmonizes  with  the  Divine  will — 
which  attracts  it  to  God — which  produces  a 
communion,  a  fellowship,  a  familiarity,  if  I 
may  so  speak,  that  instinctively  detects  the 
impressions  of  God,  wherever  they  are  found. 
It  is  fundamentally  the  principle  of  love  to 
Him  ;  its  true  expression  is  that  of  union  with 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  43 

Him;  and  even  where  there  is  no  direct 
reference  to  His  name,  it  gives  tone  and  com- 
plexion to  all  moral  and  intellectual  exercises. 
This  love  to  God,  not  as  a  single  habit,  not  as 
a  series  of  particular  affections,  but  as  the 
ground-form  of  all,  as  the  fundamental  law 
of  their  manifestation,  is  the  nearest  approach 
we  can  make  to  the  description  of  holiness 
as  a  state.  This  is  the  reason  why  fellowship 
with  God  must  be  the  perfection  of  a  holy 
being.  Love  demands  it.  Communion  is  the 
life  of  love ;  and  this,  too,  is  the  reason  why 
love  is  said  to  be  the  fulfilling  of  the  lavf — 
not  that  benevolence  or  any  individual  sen- 
timents of  kindness^— not  even  that  gratitude 
to  God  or  the  adoration  and  praise  of  His 
excellencies,  as  single  and  independent  exer- 
cises, fulfil  the  law,  but  that  state  of  the  soul 
which  is  in  deepest  harmony  with  God,  and 
finds  its  full  manifestation  only  in  a  sense  of 
union  and  correspondence  with  Him,  contains 
the  elements  of  all  true  virtue.  Here  is  their 
centre  of  unity,  and  their  point  of  divergence. 
Schleiermacher  was  right  in  making  the  es- 


(/ 


M  THE    ETHICAL    SYSTEM 

sence  of  religion,  subjectively  considered,  to 
be  feeling,  in  the  extended  sense  which  he 
has  given  to  that  term ;  but  he  was  wrong  in 
making  that  feeling,  a  sense  of  absolute  de- 
pendence upon  God.  Had  he  put  love  for 
dependence,  and  distinguished  between  it  as 
a  pervading  tone  of  the  mind,  and  as  mani- 
fested in  special  operations,  his  analysis  would 
have  coincided  substantially  with  that  of  the 
beloved  Apostle :  He  that  dioelleth  in  love 
dwelleth  in  God  and  God  in  him.  So  also 
there  is  a  subjective  unity  in  sin.  Depravity, 
like  holiness,  is  a  generic  state — the  law  of  a 
mode  of  existence  and  operation.  It  is  de- 
nominated in  the  Scriptures  death,  and  the 
term  is  happily  chosen,  as  it  impressively 
exhibits  its  pervading  influence  upon  all  the 
powers  and  faculties  of  the  man.  The  ques- 
tion of  total  depravity  could  never  have  been 
raised,  if  the  Scripture  notion  of  depravity 
had  been  steadily  apprehended.  It  must 
either  be  total  or  not  at  all.  The  man  who  is 
dead  is  dead  all  over.  As  the  ground-form 
of  holiness  is  love  to  God,  or  rather  the  spirit 


OF    I  HE    BIBLE.  45 

of  love  to  God,  so  the  ground-form  of  sin  is 
the  spirit  of  opposition ;  the  carnal  mind  is 
enmity  against  God. 

In  this  analysis  of  holiness  and  sin,  I  main- 
tain that  the  Scriptures  have  rendered  a  real 
contribution  to  the  philosophy  of  our  nature. 
The  fact,  that  there  was  an  essential  unity  in 
each,  had  been  previously  felt  and  distinctly 
asserted  by  the  Peripatetics  and  the  Stoics, 
but  in  what  that  unity  consisted,  their  igno- 
rance of  God  and  of  all  true  communion  with 
Him  precluded  them  from  the  possibility  of 
answering.  The  unrenewed  man  is  destitute 
of  those  elements  of  consciousness,  out  of 
which  alone  an  answer  could  be  reflectively 
extracted.  It  was  reserved  for  Christianity, 
in  revealing  the  true  God,  to  reveal,  at  the 
same  time,  the  moral  excellence  of  man.  The 
Scriptural  account  of  holiness  resolves  a  diffi- 
culty which,  I  apprehend,  every  young  man 
has  felt,  in  explaining  the  effects  which  the 
history  of  the  fall  attributes  to  a  single  sin 
upon  a  nature  originally  upright.  If  we 
were  left  to  conjecture  and  speculation,  we 


46  THE    ETHICAL   SYSTEM 

might  suppose  that,  as  a  habit  is  not  likely  to 
be  formed  from  a  single  act,  the  principle  of 
rectitude  would  still  remain,  though  weakened 
in  its  power,  and  by  vigourous  and  systematic 
efforts  might  recover  from  the  shock  which, 
to  some  extent,  had  disordered  the  moral  con- 
stitution. Bishop  Butler^'  speaks  with  hesita- 
tion in  relation  to  the  degree  of  injury  which 
might  be  expected  to  accrue  from  the  first 
full  overt  act  of  irregularity,  though  he  has 
no  backwardness  in  regard  to  the  natural  re- 
sults of  a  confirmed  habit.  The  difficulty  is 
created  by  overlooking  the  reality  of  govern- 
ment and  the  peculiarity  of  holiness.  In  con- 
templating the  effect  of  the  first  transgression 
on  the  part  of  an  upright  creature,  we  are 
not  to  confine  our  view  to  the  tendency  of 
the  act  to  form  a  habit,  as  if  the  law  of  habit 
were  the  only  law  under  which  it  does  its 
mischief  We  are  to  bear  in  mind,  that  as 
we  are  under  government,  as  well  as  pos- 
sessed of  a  moral  constitution,  it  has  also 
judicial  consequences,  which  must  enter  into 

*  Analogy.     Part  i.,  chap.  5. 


OFTHEBIBLE.  47 

the  estimate  of  the  extent  of  injury  sustained 
by  the  inner  man.  Now,  as  holiness,  which 
is  the  foundation  of  the  virtuous  principle, 
the  key-stone  of  the  arch  which  maintains  an 
upright  nature  in  its  integrity,  consists  es- 
sentially in  union  with  God,  whatever  alienates 
Him,  must  destroy  it.  This  is  precisely  what 
every  sin  does ;  it  provokes  His  curse,  breaks 
the  harmony  of  the  soul  with  Him,  and  re- 
moves that  which  is  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciple of  all  true  excellence.  The  sinner  must 
die ;  the  moment  that  God  frowns  in  anger, 
death  invades  the  soul.  It  is  the  judicial 
consequence  of  sin. 

3.  The  third  and  last  point  to  which  I  shall 
advert,  as  distinguishing  the  ethical  teaching 
of  the  Bible,  is  the  answer  which  it  gives  to 
the  question :  How  shall  man  accomplish  the 
end  of  his  being  ?  How  shall  he  acquire  that 
perfection  of  nature,  that  holiness  of  state, 
without  which  he  can  never  see  God  and  live  ? 
There  is  evidently  a  double  work  to  be  done 
— a,  change  to  be  effected  in  his  judicial  re- 
lations, and  in  the  temper  and  dispositions  of 


48  THE    ETHICAL   SYSTEM 

the  soul.  As  to  the  method  of  achieving  the 
first,  philosophy  is  completely  dumb.  The 
scheme  of  redemption,  by  which  pardon  and 
acceptance  are  secured,  is  necessitated  by  no 
principles  of  natural  light — it  is  the  offspring 
of  infinite  wisdom,  begotten  by  infinite  grace. 
But  philosophy  may  aspire  to  institute  a  dis- 
cipline by  which  the  sinner  shall  restore  his 
shattered  constitution  to  integrity,  and  attain 
the  perfection  to  which  he  was  originally 
destined.  There  is  a  strong  feeling  in  us  all, 
that  though  damaged,  we  are  not  ruined  by 
the  fall ;  that  we  still  possess  the  elements  of 
our  ancient  greatness,  and  that,  by  care  and 
diligence  on  our  part,  we  can  repair  the  mis- 
chief that  has  been  done. 

I  am  far,  very  far  from  detracting  from  the 
benefits  of  a  moral  education,  or  saying  aught 
to  depreciate  the  importance  of  the  most 
scrupulous  self-culture.  We  can  accomplish 
much  by  energy  of  purpose,  by  fidelity  to 
conscience,  by  sensibility  to  honour.  We  can 
employ  the  principles  of  our  nature,  fallen 
though  it  be,  in  the  consummation  of  a  char- 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  49- 

acter,  which  shall  be  distinguished  by  habits 
of  nearly  every  specific  virtue.  The  virgins, 
who  went  up  and  down  in  quest  of  them, 
might  have  gathered  all  the  limbs  of  the 
mangled  body  of  Osiris,  and  put  them  to- 
gether in  their  order,  but  it  would  not  have 
been  Osiris  himself  We  can  form  habits  of 
nearly  all  that  is  materially  right,  and  yet  be 
wanting  in  the  true  principle  of  holiness.  It 
is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  total  de- 
pravity means  devilish  wickedness.  Death  is 
one  thing,  and  the  putrefaction  of  the  body 
another.  Now,  the  Scriptures  teach  us  that 
the  highest  attainments  of  nature  are  only 
dead  works.  Left  to  itself,  without  check  or 
hinderance  to  its  spontaneous  develop ements, 
it  would  produce  nothing  but  wicked  works ; 
but  modified  by  education,  by  example,  by 
society,  and  the  thousand  influences  which 
co-operate  in  the  formation  of  character,  it 
may  exhibit  the  loveliness  of  life  on  the  fea- 
tures long  after  life  has  fled.  Man  can  only 
act  in  obedience  to  his  nature ;  from  the 
very  definition  of  the  term,  it  is  the  law  of 


60  THE    ETHICAL    SYSTEM 

his  mode  of  existence  or  of  life.  He  can 
never,  therefore,  escape  from  the  pervading 
power  of  depravity.  He  may  check  one  ten- 
dency by  another,  counteract  one  motive  by 
another — just  as  in  the  physical  world,  one 
law  may  be  made  to  controul  another,  and 
effects  may  be  produced  by  their  combination 
which  neither  could  singly  produce.  But  we 
can  never  rise  above  these  laws.  All  power, 
after  all,  is  in  obedience.  So  man  can  never 
rise  above  his  nature — all  education  is  within 
its  sphere.  Hence  the  utter  and  absolute  im- 
possibility of  transferring  himself  from  a  state 
of  depravity  to  that  of  holiness.  He  must  be 
BORN  again.  The  new  nature  must  be  im- 
parted, and  as  it  tends  to  God,  it  must  come 
from  God.  Until  the  Divine  Spirit  shall 
renew  us,  we  are  incompetent  to  perform  a 
single  work  that  is  acceptable  to  God.  The 
victims  which  we  bring  to  the  altar  are  only 
lifeless  carcasses.  It  is  idleness  to  talk  of  a 
discipline  in  holiness  to  him  to  whom  the 
primum  mobile  is  wanting.  Neither  does  the 
Bible  leave  us,  after  imparting  the  elemental 


OF    THE    BIBLfi.  61- 

germ  of  holiness,  to  the  principle  of  habit,  or 
any  other  law  of  developement  and  growth, 
to  effect  the  perfection  of  our  being.  Having 
brought  us  into  a  state  of  fellowship  with  God, 
it  maintains  that  fellowship  by  constant  com- 
munications of  His  love — by  unceasing  assist- 
ances of  grace.  We  r^re  committed  to  the 
tuition  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  under  His  guid- 
ance and  inspiration  we  rise  from  one  form  to 
another,  until  we  are  rendered  meet  for  the 
inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light.  Hence  the 
subjective  states  in  which  our  holiness  is 
manifested  are  not  denominated  habits  but 
graces.  They  are  not  acquisitions  but  gifts  ; 
and  to  remind  us  perpetually  of  the  source 
of  all  the  excellence  that  attaches  to  us,  the 
very  language  we  employ  is  a  confession  of 
our  own  impotency,  and  an  acknowledgment 
of  God's  free  favour. 

I  have  now  completed  what  I  had  to  say 
upon  the  ethical  system  of  the  Bible.  The 
true  light  in  which  redemption  should  be 
habitually  contemplated  is  that  of  a  Divine  in- 
stitute of  holiness.     Its  immediate  end  is  to 


52  THE     ETHICAL     SYSTEM 

restore  the  union  which  sin  has  broken  be- 

* 

tween  ourselves  and  God.  It  starts  out  with 
the  great  thought,  that  the  happiness  of  an 
intelligent  and  moral  creature  is  not  some- 
thing foreign — not  the  possession  of  an  out- 
ward and  separate  good — not  shining  courts 
nor  splendid  halls,  nor  any  other  princely  equi- 
page of  state — ^but  the  exercise  of  its  own 
energies  in  God.  To  be  happy  it  must  be  in 
sympathy  with  the  author  of  its  being.  Upon 
this  lofty  eminence  the  whole  scheme  is 
erected,  and  all  its  arrangements  are  directed 
to  the  achievement  of  two  results — the  re- 
moval of  those  judicial  consequences  of  sin 
which  repel  God  from  the  sinner,  and  of  those 
moral  obstructions  which  repel  the  sinner 
from  God.  Jesus,  as  the  daysman  betwixt 
them,  comes  in  and  lays  his  hand  upon  them 
both.  He  bears  our  sins  in  his  own  body 
on  the  tree,  and  thus  reconciles  God  to  us ; 
he  cleanses  our  hearts  by  the  washing  of  re- 
generation, and  thus  reconciles  us  to  God, 
and  the  first  friendly  interview  of  the  parties 
takes  place  at  the  foot  of  the  cross  when  we 


OF    THE    BIBLE.  53 

believe  in  Jesus.  This  whole  scheme  involves 
the  moral  system,  the  system,  if  you  please, 
of  Divine  philosophy  upon  which  the  govern- 
ment of  God  is  conducted.  It  is  the  ethical 
system  of  the  universe,  and  the  Gospel  is  the 
only  means,  accordingly,  by  which  we  can 
attain  true  integrity.  In  rejecting  it,  we 
are  not  rejecting  crowns  and  sceptres ;  we 
are  rejecting  the  very  essence  of  virtue,  and 
it  is  idle  to  pretend  to  a  profound  reverence 
for  rectitude,  when  we  disregard  the  only 
means  by  which  we  can  be  restored  to  it. 
In  this  moral  aspect  I  am  anxious  to  recom- 
mend it  to  you.  All  your  present  excellencies 
are  dead  works,  and  when  the  influences 
which  now  embalm  and  preserve  the  corpse 
are  gone,  it  will  putrefy  and  stink.  The  first 
step  in  real  moral  improvement,  is  faith  in  the 
Son  of  God.  When  that  step  is  taken,  we 
begin  to  live;  until  then,  we  are  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins. 


C|f  fo\3t  of  Crut^. 

"  Whatsoever  things  are  true,  think  on  these  things." 
PniLippiANs,  iv.  8. 

The  injunction  of  the  text,  to 
DISC.  II.J 

trunk  on  whatsoever  things  are 

true,  obviously  implies  that  the  love  of 
truth,  for  its  own  sake,  is  a  habit  which  we 
are  bound  to  cultivate  and  cherish.  If  it  is 
the  circumstance  of  their  being  true,  which 
entitles  these  things  to  our  attention  and  re- 
gard, and  makes  it  our  duty  to  investigate 
and  pursue  them,  there  must  be  something  in 
truth,  essentially  considered,  which  commends 
it  to  the  moral  approbation  of  the  species.  It 
s  to  be  regretted  that  philosophers,  in  com- 
menting upon  the  obligation  of  veracity,  have 
not  paid  sufficient  attention  to  the  habit  or 
general  disposition  of  the  soul,  which  lies  at 
the  foundation  of  everv  form  of  the  virtue — 


THE    LOVE    OF    TllUTH.,  |5S 

of  accuracy  in  narrative,  sincerity  in  conduct, 
and  fidelity  to  engagements.  Commentators 
have  even  gone  so  far  as  to  maintain  that  the 
apostle,  in  the  words  before  us,  had  his  eye 
only  upon  that  species  of  truth,  which  relates 
to  the  social  intercourse  of  men  ;  taking  it  for 
granted  that  this  is  the  only  kind  of  truth  to 
which  an  ethical  character  pertains.  One* 
represents  him  as  describing  "  moral  charac- 
ters and  the  duties  of  a  Christian,"  and  ac- 
cordingly restricts  his  meaning  to  "integrity 
and  uprightness  in  opposition  to  hypocrisy, 
insincerity,  or  moral  falsehood."  The  convic- 
tion seems  to  be  common,  that  the  operations 
of  the  understanding  are  not  immediately 
under  the  cognizance  of  conscience,  and  that 
of  the  processes  by  which  we  form  our  specu- 
lative opinions,  virtue  and  vice  can  neither 
be  affirmed  nor  denied.  These  speculations 
are  often  directed  to  subjects  in  their  own 
nature  indifferent,  and  it  is  confidently  in- 
ferred, that  because  the  objects  of  our  thoughts 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  distinctions  of 

*  Dr.  Watts.     Sermon  on  this  text. 


66  THE    LOVK    OP'    TKUTH. 

morality,  our  thoughts  themselves  are  equally 
exempt  from  a  moral  character.  Hence  has 
arisen  the  dogma  that  we  are  not  responsi- 
ble for  our  opinions.  The  understanding  is 
treated  as  a  series  of  faculties,  subject  to  its 
own  laws,  moving  in  a  peculiar  and  restricted 
sphere,  having  no  other  connection  with  con- 
science thaA  as  it  analyzes  and  applies  the 
rules  of  morality  to  the  cases  of  practice, 
which  are  constantly  occurring  in  the  busi- 
ness of  the  world.  It  may  study,  arrange  and 
digest  the  moral  code,  but  the  laws  which  it 
acknowledges  have  no  reference  to  its  own 
processes,  but  only  to  the  conduct  of  life. 

This,  however,  is  not  the  doctrine  of  the 
Scriptures.  They  represent  the  domain  of  mo- 
rality as  extending  to  the  whole  nature  of 
man.  Whatever  directly  or  indirectly  falls 
under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  will  possesses  an 
ethical  character,  and  may  be  the  occasion  to 
us  of  praise  or  blame,  according  to  the  prin- 
ciples and  habits  by  which  we  have  been 
governed.  The  morality  does  not  attach  to 
the  processes  or  faculties  themselves,  but  to 


THE    LOVE     OF    TRUTH.  67 

tlie  spirit  and  temper,  the  motives  and  pur- 
poses, which  have  shaped  and  determined 
their  operations.  There  is  a  general  sense  in 
which  all  the  elements  of  our  spiritual  nature 
are  in  subjection  to  the  will.  The  springs  of 
action,  in  our  appetites,  affections  and  desires, 
with  which  we  are  endowed,  all  act  blindly ; 
they  simply  impel,  but  they  do  not  direct. 
They  cannot  regulate  their  own  motions ; 
they  cannot  prescribe  the  extent  or  circum- 
stances  of  their  gratification,  or  determine  the 
relative  value  of  the  objects  which  elicit  them. 
They  rouse  the  will;  and  that  must  consult 
the  conscience  and  the  understanding  as  to 
the  course  to  be  pursued.  Corresponding  to 
all  these  springs  of  action  there  are  moral 
laws,  in  obedience  to  which  the  will  must  con- 
trol them.  These  laws,  ingrained  into  the 
nature,  and  invested  with  the  supremacy 
which  belongs  to  them,  are  so  many  habits 
of  virtue,  the  complement  of  which  makes  up 
integrity  of  character.  In  the  springs  of  ac- 
tion themselves  there  is  nothing  directly  vir- 
tuous or  vicious — they  are  simply  indifferent,  a 


58  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

It  is  when  they  have  put  the  man  in  the  atti- 
tude of  motion  that  responsibility  begins,  and 
according  to  the  principles  upon  which  he 
treats  them  he  is  entitled  to  praise  or  blame. 
These  motive  impulses  are  adjusted  to  the 
whole  nature  of  man.  Some  spring  from  the 
body  and  operate  at  periodic  intervals — such 
as  hunger  and  thirst,  the  appetite  of  sex,  and 
the  desire  of  repose.  There  is  nothing  virtu- 
ous or  vicious  in  any  of  the  naked  appetites ; 
but  virtue  and  vice  may  attach  to  the  meth- 
ods of  their  gratification.  There  may  be  ex- 
cess, as  in  gluttony  and  drunkenness,  food 
may  be  unlawfully  procured,  or  may  consist 
of  materials  prejudicial  to  the  health  of  the 
system.  Other  springs  of  action  are  directed 
to  the  mind — among  which  one  of  the  most 
prominent  is  curiosity,  or  the  desire  of  knowl- 
edge. In  this,  also,  there  is  nothing  directly 
moral ;  but  an  ethical  character  ensues,  the 
very  moment  the  will  pronounces  upon  the 
manner,  the  ends,  and  the  extent  of  its  grati- 
fication. When  the  question  arises,  how  shall 
this  desire  of  knowledge  be  gratified?  there 


THE    LOVPJ    OF    TllUTH.  59 

are  moral  laws  in  conformity  with  which  the 
will  is  compelled  to  decide.  Other  springs 
of  action  are  directed  to  the  nurture  and  cul- 
tivation of  the  finer  afiections  of  the  heart ; 
and  like  those  already  enumerated,  are  indif- 
ferent in  themselves,  though  the  modes,  and 
measure,  and  objects  of  their  indulgence  are 
equally  subject  to  the  jurisdiction  of  the  con- 
science. As,  then,  there  are  principles  of  ac- 
tion designed  to  stimulate  every  department 
of  our  nature,  and  as  the  method,  end  and 
extent  of  their  operation  are  to  be  deter- 
mined by  the  moral  understanding,  every  de- 
partment of  man's  nature  is  brought  under 
the  cognizance  of  moral  law,  and  he  may  be 
virtuous,  or  vicious  on  account  of  his  opin- 
ions and  sentiments  as  well  as  on  account  of 
his  conduct.  The  law  in  conformity  with 
which  we  are  bound  to  regulate  the  impulses 
of  curiosity,  is  the  love  of  truth.  This  law, 
written  upon  the  heart,  incorporated  into  the 
nature,  strengthened  into  a  habit,  constitutes 
the  measure  of  the  morality  of  intellect.  It. 
is  no*  merely  an  accomplishment,  an  excet    (/ 


/ 


60  THE    LOVE    OF    TliUTH. 

lence,  a  beauty;  it  is  an  indispensable  duty 
to  aim  at  truth  in  all  the  excursions  of  the 
understanding.  It  is  as  much  a  moral  obli- 
gation to  seek  for  it  in  our  opinions  as  to 
express  it  in  our  words,  or  to  manifest  it  in 
our  conduct.  We  are  responsible  for  the 
opinions  which  we  form,  not  merely  as  these 
opinions  are  connected  with  conduct,  or  are 
probably  the  offspring  of  corrupt  affections, 
but  on  the  ground  that  the  love  of  truth,  in 
the  whole  extent  and  variety  of  its  import,  is 
an  imperative  and  indestructible  duty.  This 
is  the  uniform  teaching  of  the  Scriptures. 
This  is  implied  in  the  exhortation  to  buy  the 
truth  and  sell  it  not,  to  seek  that  wisdom 
which  is  only  another  name  for  it,  as  for  hid- 
den treasures,  and  to  prefer  its  merchandise 
to  that  of  gold  and  silver.  Jesus  Christ  com- 
mends Himself  to  our  confidence  and  love  on 
the  ground  of  His  being  the  truth — promised 
the  Holy  Spirit  as  the  Spirit  of  truth,  de- 
nounced the  vengeance  of  God  upon  those 
who  believed  Him  not  when  He  had  told 
them  the  truth,  and  makes  it  the  glory  of  the 


THE    LOVE     OF    TRUTH.  61 

Father  that  He  is  the  God  of  truth,  and  the 
shame  and  everlasting  infamy  of  the  Prince 
of  darkness  that  he  is  the  father  of  lies.  The 
eulogies  directly  and  indirectly  bestowed  in 
the  Scriptures  upon  truth,  knowledge,  under- 
standing, wisdom,  have  special  reference,  we 
freely  concede,  to  that  department  of  truth 
which  is  the  immediate  subject  of  Divine  rev- 
elation, but  they  would  be  evidently  point- 
less and  meaningless,  if  truth  in  general  were 
not  intrinsically  a  good,  and  a  good  of  such  a 
nature  as  to  lay  the  understanding  under  a 
formal  obligation  to  receive  it. 

It  is,  indeed,  as  the  ancients  well  expressed 
it,  the  food  of  the  soul,  pabulum  animi. 
There  is  a  natural  congruity  betwixt  it  and 
the  structure  of  the  mind.  The  one  corre- 
sponds to  the  other  as  light  to  the  eye  and 
sounds'  to  the  ear.  The  existence  of  such  a 
desire  as  curiosity  is  a  clear  intimation,  that 
man  was  formed  for  intelligence  as  well  as  for 
action,  and  the  adjustment  of  his  faculties  to 
the  objects  by  which  he  is  surrounded,  is  a 
command  from  God  to  exercise  them  accord- 


v" 


^2  THE    LOVE    OF    T  HUT  II. 

ing  to  the  laws  by  whicli  He  has  defined  their 
operation,  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge. 
Aristotle*  having  divided  the  rational  facul- 
ties of  man  into  speculative  and  practical, 
proceeds  to  determine  what  is  the  best  habit 
of  each.  The  best  habit  of  anything  he  de- 
nominates its  virtue,  and  very  justly  observes 
that  the  virtue  of  each  object  is  ascertained 
by  its  fitness  for  performing  its  peculiar  func- 
tions. These  faculties  evidently  point  to 
truth — the  one  speculative,  the  other  practical 
— as  their  appropriate  function,  and  hence 
are  a  call  of  God,  through  the  essential  cdn- 
stitution  of  the  mind,  to  seek  for  wisdom. 
This  doctrine  seems  to  me  to  be  expressly 
and  directly  taught  in  a  passage  of  the  Eude- 
mian  Ethicks,f  which  has  been  the  occasion 
of  not  a  little  perplexity  to  the  commentators. 
The  Stagyrite  there  makes  God  the  principle 
of  motion  in  the  human  soul,  and  treats  the 
fundamental  deliverances  of  consciousness  as 
inspirations   of  the   Almighty,   more   certain 

♦  Nicliora.  Ethicks. 

t  Lib.  vii.  c.  14,  quoted  iu  Hamilton's  Reid,  p.  773. 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  63 

than  any  deductions  of  science  or  reason,  and 
as  the  conditions  upon  which  all  subsequent 
knowledge  depends.  God  has  made  us  cog- 
nitive beings.  He  has  impressed  upon  us 
necessary  and  indestructible  laws  of  belief, 
and  if  there  be  any  force  in  the  argument 
from  final  causes,  we  are  obliged  to  regard 
the  pursuit  of  knowledge  as  a  part  of  the  law 
of  our  being.  It  is  the  end  of  the  mind  to 
know,  as  it  is  of  the  eye  to  see,  the  ear  to 
hear,  or  the  heart  to  feel.  Every  man  is  as 
distinctly  organized  in  reference  to  truth  as 
in  reference  to  any  other  purpose. 

It  deserves  farther  to  be  remarked,  that  it 
is  the  prerogative  of  truth  alone  to  invigorate 
the  mind.  The  distinctions  of  sophistry  and 
error  may  impart  acuteness,  quicken  sagacity, 
and  stimulate  readiness,  but  what  is  gained  in 
sharpness  is  lost  in  -expansion  and  solidity. 
The  minuteness  of  vision  which  falls  to  the 
lot  of  whole  tribes  of  insects,  is  suited  only  to 
a  narrow  sphere,  and  to  diminutive  objects. 
The  eye  which  can  detect  the  latent  animal- 
cules which  teem  in  the  air,  the  water,  and 


64  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

the  soil,  is  incompetent  to  embrace  in  its 
range  the  glories  of  heaven,  or  the  beauties 
of  earth.  The  dexterity  and  readiness  which 
defences  of  falsehood  are  suited  to  produce, 
is  not  a  free,  generous,  healthful  activity,  but 
a  diseased  condition  of  the  system,  aralogous 
to  that  induced  by  fever,  or  poisonous  and 
stimulating  potions.  But  truth  is  a  food 
which  the  soul  digests,  it  strengthens  and 
consolidates  the  mind,  and  is  in  every  view 
worthy  of  the  high  encomiums  which  the  an- 
cient sages  were  accustomed  to  lavish  upon 
the  pursuits  of  their  favourite  philosophy,  as 
the  wealth  of  reason ;  the  culture  and  medi- 
cine of  the  soul ;  the  choicest  gift  of  heaven. 

There  is  another  aspect  in  which  the  love 
of  truth,  as  the  pervading  law  of  our  specu- 
lative inquiries,  may  be  satisfactorily  exhib- 
ited. The  moral  and  intellectual  natures  of 
man  are  so  intimately  connected,  their  mu- 
tual dependence  so  nicely  adjusted,  their 
action  and  reaction  so  perfect  and  complete, 
that  confusion  of  understanding  is  always 
accompaU  *.ed  with  corresponding  lubricity  of 


THE    LOVE    OF    TKUTH.  66 

principle,  and  he  whose  perceptions  of  truth 
are  not  remarkable  for  clearness  and  preci- 
sion, will  most  surely  be  distinguished  by  an 
equal  obscurity  in  his  conceptions  of  rectitude. 
The  moral  duties  which  we  are  required  to 
perform,  may  be  contemplated  as  speculative 
principles,  whose  truth  must  be  submitted  to 
the  decision  of  reason,  as  well  as  authoritative 
laws  of  the  conscience,  whose  precepts  we  are 
bound  to  obey.  There  must  be  an  exercise 
of  the  reflective  understanding,  in  eliminating 
the  primary  dicta  of  our  moral  nature,  and  in 
determining  the  occasions  and  circumstances 
which  call  for  the  application  of  particular 
rules.  The  regulation  of  our  conduct  is  not 
dependent  upon  instinct.  Aristotle,  among 
the  ancients,  was  unquestionably  in  advance 
of  every  age  which  preceded  the  introduction 
of  Christianity,  and  still  in  advance  of  many 
who  call  themselves  Christians,  in  his  clear 
and  steady  perception  of  the  indissoluble  con- 
nection betwixt  the  cogitative  and  practical 
departments  of  man's  nature  in  reference  to 
dutv.     He  treats  it  as  a  distinction  betwixt 


6Q  THE    LOVE    OF    TKL'TH. 

virtue  and  science,  that  the  latter  is  restricted 
to  one  portion  of  the  soul,  while  the  former 
embraces  all  the  elements  of  our  being. 
"  There  are  three  principles,"  he  affirms  in 
the  Nichomachean  Ethicks,  "  which,  either 
single  or  combined,  are  the  sovereign  judges 
of  truth  and  conduct.  These  are,  sensation, 
intellect  and  appetite.  Of  these  three,  mere 
sensation  cannot  alone  be  the  foundation  of 
any  judgment  respecting  the  conduct,  that  is, 
the  propriety  of  action ;  for  wild  beasts  have 
perception  by  sense,  but  are  totally  unac- 
quainted with  propriety.  Affirming  and  de- 
nying are  the  operations  of  intellect ;  desire 
and  aversion  are  those  of  appetite ;  and  since 
moral  virtue  implies  the  habit  of  just  election, 
and  election  or  preference  resolves  itself  into 
deliberation  and  appetite,  every  act  of  virtu- 
ous preference  requires,  that  there  should  be 
accuracy  and  truth  in  the  comparison,  as  well 
as  correctness  and  propriety  in  the  desire." 
In  conformity  with  this  reasoning,  he  subse- 
quently denominates  the  moral  election  or 
preference  peculiar  to  man,  "an  impassioned 


THE    LOVE     OF    TEUTH.  67 

intelligence  or  reflecting  appetite."  Who  is 
not  reminded  of  Bishop  Butler's  "sentiment  of 
the  understanding  or  perception  of  the  heart?"  Y 
The  investigation  of  duty,  involving  so  obvi- 
ously the  exercise  of  judgment,  those  philos- 
ophers are  not  to  be  rashly  condemned,  who 
attribute  to  the  same  faculty  of  the  mind,  the 
power  of  distinguishing  betwixt  right  and 
wrong,  -which,  it  is  confessed,  distinguishes 
betwixt  truth  and  falsehood.  They  feel  that 
the  mental  processes  are  so  nearly  identical, 
that  they  cannot  but  regard  it  as  an  unneces- 
sary multiplication  of  original  powers,  to  have 
a  peculiar  understanding  conversant  only 
about  moral  truth,  while  another  understand- 
ing is  admitted  to  exist,  which  deals  in  truth 
of  every  other  kind.  Our  faculties,  which  are 
only  convenient  names  for  the  various  opera- 
tions of  a  simple  and  indivisible  substance, 
derive  their  appellation,  not  from  the  specific 
differences  of  the  objects  about  which  they 
are  employed,  but  from  their  general  nature. 
The  discovery  of  truth,  it  is  maintained,  is  as 
much  an  end  to  the  moral  inquirer  who  is 


1^ 


6S  T  HE    L  0  \'  E    O  F    T  R  U  T  H  . 

seeking,  under  given  circumstances,  to  deter- 
mine his  duty,  as  it  is  to  the  physical  philoso- 
pher, whose  investigations  cannot  be  legiti- 
mately pushed  beyond  the  province  cf  exist- 
ing phenomena.  The  same  laws  of  evidence, 
the  same  original  principles,  the  same  ele- 
ments of  human  belief,  and  the  same  process 
of  patient  analysis  and  patient  induction,  are, 
or  ought  to  be,  common  to  both,  and  can  no 
more  be  discarded  with  impunity  by  ihe  one 
than  they  can  be  by  the  other. 

This  reasoning  is  certainly  plausible,  though 
not  conclusive.  There  is  judgment  in  the 
decisions  of  the  conscience,  and  the  laws  in 
conformity  with  which  that  faculty  pronoun- 
ces what  Kant  calls  its  categorical  imperative, 
become  standards  of  evidence,  the  constitu- 
tive and  regulative  principles  of  operation 
in  all  that  pertaifis  to  rectitude  and  duty. 
Mere  speculation  could  never  suggest  to  us 
the  notions  of  right  and  wrong,  of  virtue  or  a 
crime;  but  the  materials  which  conscience 
supplies  become  the  subjects  of  philosophic 
contemplation,  and  are  worked  up  in  vhe  lab- 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  69 

orator}"  of  reflection,  into  abstract  principles, 
which  must  react  upon  the  conscience.  The 
moral  opinions  framed  by  the  understanding 
from  the  phenomena  of  conscience,  will  con- 
stitute our  code  of  right,  and  in  the  applica- 
tion of  this  code  to  the  countless  contingencies 
and  diversified  occasions  of  life,  there  is  room 
for  the  influence  of  judgment  in  determining 
what  principles  to  apply.  There  can,  conse- 
quently, be  no  progress  in  virtue  beyond  the 
merest  elements,  or  primary  dicta  of  our  moral 
constitution,  without  progress  in  intelligence. 
Knowledge  is  as  essential  to  responsibility  as 
conscience.  Hence  a  variable  or  fluctuating 
standard  of  truth  necessarily  introduces  a 
variable  and  fluctuating  standard  of  morals ; 
whatever  system  legitimates  error  legitimates 
crime;  whatever  blinds  the  understanding 
corrupts  the  heart.  The  moral  nature,  devel- 
oped s'de  by  side  with  the  intellectual,  and 
in  a  large  measure  dependent  upon  it,  is  al- 
ways involved  in  the  same  ruin.  Rude  and 
barbarous  nations  are  as  much  indebted  to 
imbecility  of  reason,  superinduced  by  neglect 


70  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

of  cultivation,  false  associations,  or  ill-judged 
discipline,  for  their  mistaken  apprehensions 
of  good  and  evil  in  the  practical  details  of 
life,  as  to  depravity  of  taste  or  perversion  of 
moral  sensibility.  Their  deeds  of  darkness 
are  performed  without  compunctious  visitings 
of  conscience,  not  because  that  messenger  of 
God  slumbers  in  the  breast,  or  is  bribed  by 
the  sinner  to  hold  its  peace,  or  prevaricates 
in  regard  to  the  fundamental  distinctions  of 
right  and  wrong,  but  because  that  light  is 
extinguished,  that  soundness  of  judgment  is 
wanting,  without  which  it  is  impossible  to 
discriminate  in  the  cases  presented.  The 
moral  habits  can  no  more  expand  nor  take 
root  downwards  and  bear  fruit  upwards, 
while  the  understanding,  the  true  sun  of  the 
intellectual  system,  is  veiled  in  darkness,  than 
the  plants  and  herbage  of  nature  can  flourish 
in  beauty  and  luxuriance  without  the  genial 
light  of  the  day.  The  sense  of  obligation  is 
always  just  in  proportion  to  the  enlargement 
of  the  mind  with  liberal  views  of  the  relations 
of  mankind;    and   although    the   knowledge 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  71 

of  the  right  does  not  necessarily  secure  its 
practice,  it  does  secure  what  is  always  of 
vast  importance  to  society,  remorse  to  the 
guilty,  and  a  homage  of  respect  to  the  good. 
He  that  acknowledges  a  legitimate  standard 
of  moral  obligation  will  find  in  his  conscience 
a  check  to  those  crimes,  which,  through  weak- 
ness, he  is  unable  to  suppress ;  a  restraint  upon 
those  passions  which,  through  frailty,  cannot 
be  subdued.  The  transgressor,  who  violates 
rules  of  unquestioned  authority,  which  his 
own  understanding  has  deduced  from  the 
phenomena  of  conscience,  will  assuredly  drive 
tranquillity  from  his  bosom  and  repose  from 
his  couch.  He  sins  indeed,  but  without  that 
moral  hardihood  which  attaches  to  those  who, 
in  their  blindness  and  ignorance,  put  light  for 
darkness,  and  bitter  for  sweet.  They  are  the 
most  dangerous  ojBfenders  who  tamper  with 
the  principles  of  rectitude  itself,  who  seek  to 
escape  the  reproaches  of  conscience  by  de- 
grading the  standard  of  moral  obligation; 
who  pursue  peace  at  tl>e  expense  of  truth, 
and  extinguish  the  light  that  they  may  not 


72  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

behold  the  calamity  of  their  state.  The  aban- 
doned condition  of  the  Gentile  world,  which 
the  Apostle  graphically  describes  in  the  first 
chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  is  nlti- 
mately  traced  to  the  vanity  of  their  thoughts 
and  the  darkness  of  their  minds  ;  and  those  to 
whom  the  Gospel  is  hid,  have  their  minds 
blinded  by  the  God  of  this  world,  lest  the 
light  of  the  glorious  Gospel  of  Christ,  who  is 
the  image  of  God,  should  shine  into  them  and 
reveal  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  by  the  contem- 
plation of  which,  they  might  be  transformed 
into  the  same  image  from  glory  to  glory. 
There  is  hope  of  reformation  as  long  as  the 
principles  remain  uncorrupted ;  but  when  the 
light  which  is  in  us  is  converted  into  darkness, 
when  lies  are  greedily  embraced  and  errors 
deliberately  justified,  the  climax  of  guilt  has 
been  reached,  the  ruin  of  the  character  is 
complete,  and  the  perdition  of  the  soul,  with- 
out a  stupendous  miracle  of  grace,  seems  to 
be  inevitable.  Shame  and  remorse,  the  usual 
channels  through  which  amendment  is  pro 
duced,  are  always  the  result  of  consciousncvss 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  73 

of  wrong — an  affection  which  is  utterly  in- 
consistent with  that  complete  degradation  of 
the  mind  into  which  thousands  have  been 
sunk,  and  in  which  error  is  neither  lamented 
nor  admitted. 

From  the  intimate  alliance  which  subsists 
betwixt  the  understanding  and  the  con- 
science, speculative  falsehood  must  be  fatal  to 
the  integrity  of  morals.  He  who  trifles  with 
the  constitution  of  his  nature  in  those  primary 
convictions  which  lie  at  the  foundation  of  all 
knowledge  and  philosophy — and  error  must 
be  ultimately  traced  to  some  transgression  of 
their  laws — is  cherishing  a  temper  which  shall 
soon  rise  in  rebellion  against  the  authority  of 
conscience,  and  extinguish  the  only  light  that 
can  convict  him  of  crime.  From  the  obscu- 
rity and  confusion  which  have  been  permitted 
to  shroud  the  understanding,  may  be  antici- 
pated a  deeper  gloom  which  is  soon  to  settle 
on  the  heart.  That  the  moral  conduct  of 
men  is  not  always  answerable  to  the  loose- 
ness of  their  speculative  principles,  is  not  to 
be  ascribed  to  any  redeeming  virtue  in  the 


/f^^"     OF  T 


74*  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

principles  themselves,  but  to  the  restraints  of 
society,  and  the  voice  of  nature  which  licen- 
tiousness has  not  yet  been  able  to  suppress. 
The  tendency  exists,  though  accidental  hinder- 
ances  have  retarded  its  developement.     The 
denial  of  the  reality  of  truth  and  evidence 
will  be  attended  with  a  corresponding  denial 
of  rectitude  and  sin.     These  remarks,  though 
they  appear  to  me  to  be  intuitively  obvious, 
are  felt  to  be  necessary  in  order  to  rebuke 
the  growing  impression,  that  speculative  prin- 
ciples jbave  no  immediate  influence  in  regulat- 
ing conduct.     We  live  in  an  age  of  sophists. 
A  man  may  believe  any  thing  or  nothing ;  and 
yet  if   his  actions  are   consistent  with   the 
standard  of  public  decency,  his  principles  are 
not  to  be  condemned,  and  he  is  not  to  be 
charged  with  wickedness  on  account  of  them. 
In  the  formation  of  his  opinions,  he  is  exempt 
from  the  moral  law;    conscience  takes  cog- 
nizance of  nothing  but  the  life.     As  if  there 
could  be  any  real  virtue,  where  practice  is  not 
the  result  of  principle ;  as  if  the  opinion  were 
not   the  soul,  life  and  being  of  all  that   is 


THE    LOVE    OF     TRUTH.  76 

praiseworthy  or  excellent  in  the  conduct. 
There  can  be  no  morality  without  intelli- 
gence; and  if  there  exists  in  the  bosom  of 
the  Almighty  an  eternal  standard  of  truth, 
from  which  the  law  of  righteousness  pro- 
ceeds, in  conformity  with  which  the  arrange- 
ments of  Providence  are  conducted,  the  rela- 
tions of  things  adjusted,  and  by  which  alone 
the  harmony  of  the  world  can  be  effectually 
promoted,  the  first  step  towards  communion 
with  the  Father  of  lights  is  to  recognize  that 
standard,  and  to  have  its  rays  reflected  upon 
our  own  countenances.  The  mind  cannot 
move  in  charity,  nor  rest  in  Providence,  un- 
less it  turn  upon  the  poles  of  truth.  "  The 
inquiry  of  truth,"  says  Bacon,  ''which  is  the 
love-making  or  wooing  of  it — the  knowledge 
of  truth,  which  is  the  presence  of  it — and  the 
belief  of  truth,  which  is  the  enjoying  of  it — 
is  the  sovereign  good  of  human  nature.  The 
first  creature  of  God  in  the  work  of  days  was 
the  light  of  sense ;  the  last  was  the  light  of 
reason,  and  His  Sabbath-work  ever  since  is 
the  illumination  of  His  Spirit." 


7ft 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 


The  last  consideration  which  I  shall  adduce, 
in  order  to  show  the  ethical  character  of  the 
love  of  truth,  as  the  pervading  law  of  intel- 
lectual speculations,  is  the  circumstance  that 
it  is  the  general  habit  of  mind,  of  which  hon- 
esty,, frankness,  sincerity  and  faithfulness  are 
only  specific  manifestations.  There  is  no 
method  of  argument  by  which  the  obligation 
of  veracity,  in  the  ordinary  intercourse  and 
business  of  life,  can  be  established,  which  will 
not  equally  apply  to  the  doctrine  in  question. 
Whatever  evinces  the  wickedness  and  sin  of 
voluntarily  imposing  upon  others,  will  evince 
with  equal  certainty,  the  wickedness  and  sin 
of  voluntarily  imposing  upon  ourselves.  We 
have  no  more  right  to  deceive  ourselves  than 
we  have  to  deceive  our  neighbours.  That 
state  of  the  understanding  in  which  it  is  ex- 
empt from  prejudice,  and  judges  according  to 
the  light  of  evidence,  is  only  a  different  man- 
ifestation of  that  general  condition  of  the 
soul,  in  which  it  rejoices  in  rectitude,  delights 
in  sincerity,  and  scorns  every  approximation 
to  concealment  or  hypocrisy.     Few  are  sensi- 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  77 

ble  of  the  close  alliance  which  subsists  be- 
tween partiality  to  error  and  duplicity  and 
fraud  in  conduct.  They  are  shoots  from  tHe 
same  stock,  fruits  of  the  same  tree.  He  that 
lies  to  his  own  understanding,  or  what 
amounts  to  the  same  thing,  does  not  delib- 
erately propose  to  himself  truth^  as  the  end 
of  all  his  investigations,  will  not  scruple  at 
deceit  with  his  neighbours.  He  that  prevari- 
cates in  matters  of  opinion  is  not  to  be 
trusted  in  matters  of  interest.  The  love  of 
truth  is  honesty  of  reason,  as  the  love  of  vir 
tue  is  honesty  of  heart ;  and  so  impossible  is 
it  to  cultivate  the  moral  affections  at  the  ex 
pense  of  the  understanding,  that  they  who 
receive  not  the  truth  in  the  love  of  it,  are 
threatened,  in  the  Scriptures,  with  the  most 
awful  malediction  that  can  befall  a  sinner  in 
this  sublunary  state — an  eclipse  of  the  soul, 
and  a  blight  upon  the  heart,  which  are  the 
certain  forerunners  of  the  second  death.  The 
spirit  of  leasing  is  always  one.  What  in 
regard  to  speculative  opinions  we  denominate 
sophistry,  is  a  species  of  the  same  general 


78  THE   LOVE    OF  tri:th. 

habit  which,  developed  into  action,  gives 
birth  to  the  character  of  the  knave,  distin- 
guished from  the  man  of  probity  and  wisdom, 
not  more  by  the  meanness  of  his  views  and 
the  littleness  of  his  ends  than  the  number  and 
minuteness  of  his  contrivances  to  reconcile 
villany  with  fair  appearances.  The  sophist 
of  speculation  is  the  hypocrite  of  practice. 
The  same  temper  which  prompts  us  to  pre- 
varicate on  one  subject,  will  prompt  us  to 
prevaricate  on  all.  As  the  soul  is  one  and  in- 
divisible, and  understanding,  affections,  mem- 
ory and  will,  are  only  terms  expressive  of 
conditions  in  which  the  same  substance  is 
successively  found,  or  forms  of  action  which 
the  same  substance  successively  puts  forth, 
whatever  indicates  disease  in  one  mode  of 
operation,  must,  from  the  simplicity  of  its 
nature,  affect  it  in  all.  As  in  music,  it  is  the 
same  key  which  pervades  the  tune,  whatever 
may  be  the  variety  of  notes  of  which  it  is 
composed,  so  there  is  a  general  tone  of  mind 
which  distinguishes  all  its  activities,  and  gives 
harmonr,  consistency  and  unity  to  its  vari- 


THELOVEOFTRUTH.  t# 

ous  processes  in  every  department  of  thought 
and  feeling.  There  is  a  characteristic  com- 
plexion, a  pervading  temper,  which  may  be 
found  alike  in  the  tenor  of  its  opinions,  the 
trains  of  its  reasoning,  and  the  sentiments  of 
the  heart.  If  that  temper  be  the  love  of 
truth,  the  whole  man  will  be  distinguished  by 
candour,  sincerity,  openness  and  generosity; 
if  the  spirit  of  leasing,  the  whole  man  will  be 
distinguished  by  duplicity,  treachery,  equivo- 
cation and  concealment.  The  love  of  truth 
is,  accordingly,  the  great  moral  law,  in  con- 
formity with  which  curiosity  must  be  regu- 
lated— it  is  the  morality  of  the  intellectual 
man,  being  to  the  understanding  what  sin- 
cerity is  to  the  heart. 

The  only  plausible  objections  which  can  be 
sustained  against  the  conclusiveness  of  these 
views,  which  bring  the  understanding  under 
the  controul  of  conscience,  and  subject  the 
motives  to  intellectual  effort  to  the  jurisdic- 
tion of  morality,  is  that  which  assumes,  that 
the  operations  of  the  mind,  in  the  department 
of   speculative  truth,  are  exempt  from  the 


80  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

authority  of  the  will.  Reid  was  unquestion- 
ably right  in  the  announcement,  which,  so  far 
as  I  know,  he  was  the  first  distinctly  and 
broadly  to  make,  that  virtue  and  vice  are 
impossible  where  there  is  no  exercise  of  the 
will.  It  has  accordingly  been  contended  by 
philosophers,  of  no  less  note  than  Sir  James 
Mcintosh,  Lord  Brougham,  and  the  author  of 
Essays  on  the  Formation  of  Opinions,  that 
as  the  assent  of  the  understanding  is  always 
involuntary,  being  the  necessary  result  of 
the  evidence  submitted  to  its  view,  no  moral 
character  can  attach  to  our  opinions.  We 
cannot,  on  account  of  them,  be  either  the 
subjects  of  praise  or  blame,  of  reward  or 
punishment.  To  one,  they  tell  us,  who  has 
mastered  the  successive  links  in  a  chain  of 
mathematical  reasoning,  the  conclusion  can 
no  more  be  resisted  than  light  can  be  ex- 
cluded from  the  open  eye.  The  design  of 
these  illustrious  men  in  maintaining  the  inno- 
cence of  opinion,  is  worthy  of  all  praise ;  but 
they  have  certainly  confounded  questions  that 
are  entireh'  distinct.     Their  purpose  was  to 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  81 

lay  a  broad  basis  ^or  civil  toleration  and  for 
mutual  charity.  They  wished  to  transfer 
opinions  from  the  jurisdiction  of  the  magis 
trate,  and  to  rebuke  the  clamours  of  bigotry, 
intolerance,  and  sectarian  zeal.  But  for  this 
purpose,  it  was  not  necessary  to  prove  that 
man  is  not  responsible  for  his  opinions  at  all, 
but  only  that  he  is  not  responsible  to  his  fel- 
lows. Persecution  is  not  the  offspring  of  the 
doctrine  that  responsibility  attaches  to  opin- 
ion, but  that  this  responsibility  is  directed  to 
the  magistrate.  The  Scriptures  consequently 
put  responsibility  upon  its  proper  ground, 
when  they  show  that  though  we  are  respon- 
sible, we  are  responsible  only  to  God.  We 
are  not  the  masters  of  each  other's  faith.  We 
are  not  at  liberty  to  judge  or  despise  our 
brother  in  consequence  of  his  differences  from 
us,  but  still  each  man  must  give  account  of 
himself  to  God.  He  may  sin  in  his  opinions, 
but  we  are  not  the  persons  to  punish  him  for 
his  guilt.  To  his  own  Master,  he  stands  or 
falls.     These  remarks  are  made  in  order  to 

guard  against  the  impression,  that  in  com- 

4* 


82  THE     LOVE     OFTRUTH. 

bating  the  argument  for  toleration,  we  are 
opposed  to  the  principle  of  toleration  itself. 
On  the  contrary,  it  seems  to  us,  that  the 
philosophers  in  question  have  left  it  in  a 
much  more  precarious  condition  than  they 
found  it.  But  to  pass  this  over,  the  same 
method  of  argument  to  which  they  have  re- 
sorted in  this  case,  might  be  employed  with 
equal  pertinency  and  force,  to  prove  that  there 
is  no  responsibility  for  the  emotions,  affec- 
tions, or  permanent  conditions  of  the  heart. 
Love  and  hate  are  as  much  beyond  the  imme- 
diate province  of  the  will  as  doubt  or  belief. 
These  passions  depend  upon  the  presence  or 
conception  of  qualities,  which  just  as  neces- 
^  sarily  excite  them,  as  evidence  produces  con- 
i  viction.  Even  the  determinations  of  the  will 
itself  are  not  exempt  from  the  influence  of 
the  great  law  of  causation ;  and  if  the  argu- 
ment is  pushed  to  the  extent  of  its  legitimate 
application,  conduct  will  be  as  lawless  as  opin- 
ion. The  connection  betwixt  motives  and 
action  is  not  less  intimate  and  necessary  than 
that  between  evidence  and  faith.     It  is  pre- 


THE     LOVE     OF     TRUTH.  83 

cisely  because  there  is  this  connection,  that 
responsibility,  in  either  case,  becomes  conceiv- 
able or  possible.  If  evidence  had  no  inherent 
and  essential  tendency  to  generate  belief,  if 
conviction  were  the  arbitrary  offspring  of 
circumstances,  why  should  we  be  bound  to 
examine  evidence  at  all  ?  and  if  motives  had 
no  inherent  and  essential  tendency  to  termi- 
nate in  conduct,  why  should  we  be  bound  to 
cultivate  right  affections?  Let  those  who 
hope  to  escape  from  responsibility,  by  resorting 
to  metaphysical  distinctions,  beware  that  they 
are  not  entangled  in  their  own  net,  and  that 
in  the  issue  they  do  not  establish  what  they 
are  trying  to  overthrow. 

The  fallacy,  however,  of  this  popular  argu- 
ment is  easily  detected.  It  consists  in  re- 
stricting the  application  of  the  will  to  the 
final  determination  to  act — ^in  making  will 
synonymous  with  volition.  But  when  mo- 
rality is  confined  to  the  province  of  the  will, 
that  faculty  is  made  to  embrace  all  the  wishes 
and  desires,  all  the  appetites  and  habits  which 
constitute  the  springs  of  human  action.     Mo* 


y/ 


84  THE    LOVE     OF    TRUTH. 

rality  prescribes  to  them  their  laws;  and 
whenever  these  active  principles  are  indulged 
in  contravention  of  these  laws,  there  guilt 
necessarily  ensues — whenever  in  obedience  to 
these  precepts,  there  virtue  and  rectitude  ob- 
tain. The  sole  question,  therefore,  is,  whether 
vicious  propensities  and  desires  have  any  in- 
fluence upon  the  operations  of  the  mind — 
whether  good  or  bad  emotions  can  exert  any 
sway  in  directing  its  efforts  and  giving  shape 
to  its  results.  The  answer  here  is  too  obvious 
to  be  denied.  The  illustrations  derived  from 
mathematical  demonstration  are  singularly 
unfortunate.  The  reasonings  of  necessary 
science  are  subject  to  none  of  those  disturb- 
ing influences  which,  as  we  shall  subsequently 
see,  the  mind  experiences  from  its  tastes,  its 
temper  and  its  prejudices,  in  practical  inqui- 
ries. There  is,  in  this  case,  no  coloured  glass, 
to  tinge  the  light,  as  it  passes  to  the  eye. 
Besides,  the  contradictory  of  a  necessary  truth 
is  not  only  false  but  absurd,  and  to  entertain 
it,  or  even  to  represent  it  in  thought,  is  a  sim- 
ple impossibility.     The  will  has  no  jurisdic- 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  85 

tion,  because  the  subjects  embraced  are  whol- 
ly beyond  its  province.  This  is  implied  in 
the  very  epithet  by  which  this  species  of 
truth  is  signalized.  It  is  very  different  with 
moral  speculations.  There,  as  every  question 
has  two  sides,  and  the  opposite  of  truth  is  al- 
ways cogitable,  the  assent  is  not  the  sole  pro- 
duct of  the  evidence,  but  of  the  evidence  con- 
jointly with  the  temper  and  disposition  of  the 
man.  Two  factors  conspire  in  the  production 
of  the  result.  The  mind  not  only  receives 
the  light,  but  changes  and  transforms  it  into 
its  own  image.  The  will,  in  its  wide  sense, 
enters  as  a  powerful  element,  and  puts  its  own 
interpretation  upon  the  appearances  submit- 
ted to  the  intellect.  It  does  for  the  evidence 
what,  according  to  the  philosophy  of  Kant, 
the  understanding  does  for  the  material  of 
sensibility — it  supplies  the  form.  Hence,  in 
moral  and  religious  subjects,  universal  expe- 
rience has  demonstrated,  that  a  man  "  under- 
stands as  much  by  his  affections  as  his  rea- 
son." His  beliefs  are  voluntary,  in  the  sense, 
that  they  are  largely  determined  by  the  active 


86  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

principles  of  his  nature.  Then,  again,  there  is 
an  indirect  and  mediate  power  of  the  will  by 
which,  although  we  cannot  immediately  pro- 
duce any  given  conviction  or  emotion,  we  can 
place  ourselves  in  the  circumstances  in  which 
the  causes  shall  operate  that  are  fitted  to 
achieve  the  desired  result. 

Upon  these  two  grounds  we  maintain  that 
there  may  be  a  virtuous  or  a  vicious  exercise 
of  the  understanding;  and  that  man  is  re- 
sponsible for  his  opinions  as  he  is  responsible 
for  the  motives  which  impel  him  to  intel- 
lectual effort,  and  for  the  diligence,  caution 
and  attention  by  which  he  avails  himself  of 
all  the  means  of  arriving  at  truth. 

I  have  designedly  taken  this  wide  circuit,  as 
preparatory  to  the  illustrations  which  are  yet 
to  be  presented,  "  of  the  nature  of  that  veracity 
which  is  incumbent  on  us  in  our  intercourse 
with  our  fellow-creatures.  The  most  solid 
foundation  for  the  uniform  and  the  scrupulous 
exercise  of  this  virtue  is  to  cherish  the  love 
of  truth  in  general,  and  to  impress  the  mind 
with  a  conviction  of  its  important  effects  on 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  87 

our  own  happiness,  and  on  that  of  society." 
If  asked  why  the  love  of  truth  is  a  duty,  I 
can  only  appeal  to  the  dictates  of  conscience 
and  the  authority  of  God.  It  is  worthy  of 
remark,  however,  that  no  theory  of  morals 
has  ever  yet  been  ventilated,  at  all  entitled 
to  the  respect  of  mankind,  in  which  this  vir- 
tue has  not  received  a  prominent  position. 
Among  the  ancients  all  virtue  was  a  species 
of  truth;  and  in  the  school  of  the  Stagyrite 
prudence  was  an  intellectual  habit  conversant 
about  all  practical,  as  wisdom  was  a  habit 
conversant  about  all  speculative  truth.  In 
the  school  of  the  Stoics,  the  importance 
which  is  attached  to  it  may  be  seen  from  the 
Offices  of  Tully.  "  Of  all  the  properties  and 
inclinations  of  men,  there  is  none,"  he  in- 
forms us,  "more  natural  and  peculiar  to  them 
than  an  earnest  desire  and  search  after  truth ;" 
and  to  this  instinctive  love  of  truth  in  general 
he  traces  our  approbation  of  frankness,  can- 
dour and  sincerity  in  conduct.  Among  the 
Stoics,  as  among  the  Peripatetics,  prudence  as 
a  cardinal  virtue,  consisted  ir  the  contempla-- 


88  THE    LOVE    OF    TliUTH. 

tion  and  study  of  practical  truth.  The  the- 
ory of  Wollaston,  to  come  down  to  modern 
times,  confessedly  resolves  all  vlHue  into 
truth;  and  the  schemes  of  Clarke,  Cudworth 
and  Price  presuppose  the  speculative  conclu- 
sions of  the  intellect  as  the  final  basis  of  moral 
distinctions. 

If  vre  place  virtue  in  sentiment,  there  is 
nothing,  according  to  the  confession  of  all 
mankind,  more  beautiful  and  lovely  than 
truth,  more  ugly  and  hateful  than  a  lie.  If 
we  place  it  in  calculations  of  expediency,  no- 
thing is  more  conspicuously  useful  than  truth 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  confidence  it  in- 
spires; nothing  more  disastrous  than  false- 
hood, treachery  and  distrust.  If  there  be 
then  a  moral  principle  to  which,  in  every  form, 
humanity  has  given  utterance,  it  is  the  obliga- 
tion of  veracity.  Truth  is  alike  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  intellect  and  the  glory  of  the 
heart.  The  Gospel,  it  has  been  beautifully 
said,  "divides  universal  virtue  into  two  cardi- 
nal, collateral  and  co-existent  branches — truth 
and  charity,  the  foundation  and  consumma- 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  89 

tion  of  all  things,  corresponding  to  the  two 
constituent  parts  of  human  nature,  the  intel- 
lect and  the  will,  those  singular  and  super- 
eminent  distinctions  by  which  man  becomes 
the  subject  of  a  religion  which  makes  him 
wise  unto  salvation." 

The  practical  conclusion  which  I  am  anx- 
ious to  impress  upon  you,  from  this  part  of 
the  subject,  is  the  obligation  of  making  truth 
for  its  own  sake  the  great  end  of  your  intel- 
lectual efforts.  It  is  a  principle  which  re- 
quires to  be  strengthened  by  exercise  and 
matured  into  a  habit.  The  discipline  of  the 
mind  is  imperfect,  however  fully  its  various 
capacities  have  been  developed,  until  the  love 
of  truth  gains  the  ascendency  which  is  due 
to  it,  as  the  supreme  and  sovereign  law  of 
thought.  Various  motives  may  prompt  us  to 
be  diligent  and  patient  in  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge.  Some  seek  it,  as  Butler  has  caus- 
tically suggested,  merely  for  the  sake  of  talk- 
ing, or  to  qualify  themselves  for  the  world, 
some  for  their  own  entertainment,  some  for 
one  purpose,  others  for  another — but  multi- 


90  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

tudes  have  no  sort  of  curiosity  to  see  what 
is  true.  There  are  subordinate  ends  which 
are  lawful,  but  they  must  always  be  kept  in 
subserviency  to  the  love  of  truth  for  itself 
What  an  influence  it  would  exert  upon  you, 
upon  me,  upon  all  who  are  engaged  in  in- 
tellectual pursuits,  if  they  were  pervaded  in 
the  whole  soul  with  this  pure  and  sacred  love 
of  knowledge  I  What  student  could  indulge 
in  indolence,  or  turn  to  his  lessons  as  a  weary 
task,  or  immerse  himself  in  habits  which  dim 
the  understanding,  if  he  felt  in  any  just  pro- 
portion to  the  real  state  of  the  case,  the  tran- 
scendent excellence  of  truth,  or  the  loathsome 
deformity  of  error.  Let  us  rise,  my  brethren, 
to  the  dignity  of  this  high  argument.  You 
have  minds  that  were  made  to  hnow — ^you 
are  constructed  with  a  reference  to  truth,  and 
you  are  called  upon  to  purge  and  unscale  your 
sight  at  the  fountain  itself  of  heavenly  ra- 
diance. The  streams  of  science  are  flowing 
at  your  feet,  and  the  food  which  angels  eat,  is 
offered  to  your  palate.  Let  it  never  be  said 
that  you  have  neglected  these  golden  oppor- 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  91 

tunities,  and  turned  from  the  temple  of  truth 
to  worship  at  the  shrine  of  ignorance,  error, 
and  shame.  Resolve  in  the  strength  of  God 
this  day,  that  like  Isis  in  search  of  the  man- 
gled body  of  Osiris,  you  will  go  up  and  down, 
gathering  limb  by  limb,  the  scattered  frag 
ments  of  truth,  as  your  circumstances  shall 
enable  you  to  find  them. 

This  love  of  truth  which  I  have  been  en- 
deavouring to  recommend,  will  be  of  the  very 
last  importance  to  you,  to  guard  you  against 
the  deceits  of  the  world.  Man  walketh  in  a 
vain  show.  Untutored  by  experience,  the 
young,  particularly,  are  slow  to  suspect,  that 
the  prospects  of  good,  of  pleasure,  opulence, 
and  power,  which  stretch  in  rich  luxuriance 
before  them,  are  an  empty  pageant.  Unskill- 
ed in  the  treachery  of  the  heart  and  the  wiles 
of  the  tempter,  they  can  hardly  be  persuaded 
that  the  gilded  colours,  in  which  imagination 
adorns  the  future,  are  only  a  splendid  dra- 
pery under  which  are  concealed  disappoint- 
ment, sorrow,  and  vexation.  They  have  yet 
to  learn  the  emptiness  of  pleasure,  the  agonies 


92  the:    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

of  power,  and  the  vanity  of  wealth.  Impetu- 
ous in  their  passions,  ardent  in  their  temper, 
and  ignorant  of  life,  they  are  prone  to  fix 
their  affections  upon  some  of  those  beggarly 
elements  which  will  crumble  into  ashes  at  the 
touch  of  experience.  The  prince  of  darkness, 
intent  upon  their  ruin,  plies  his  fatal  arts 
of  enchantment  to  lull  them  into  a  sleep  of 
false  security,  to  exclude  religion  from  their 
thoughts,  and  to  conduct  them  by  deceitful 
promises  of  good,  by  lies  congenial  with  his 
nature,  to  the  shades  of  death.  This,  my 
young  friends,  is  your  position,  and  it  is  one 
of  immense  peril.  The  world,  the  flesh,  and 
hell,  all  conspire  by  glozing  falsehood,  to  se- 
duce you  to  perdition.  A  covering  is  spread 
upon  the  grave  and  the  pit,  and  the  ways  of 
sin  are  adorned  with  all  that  can  please  the 
eye,  fascinate  the  ear,  or  enchant  the  heart. 
Your  security  against  these  dangers  is  convic- 
tion of  the  truth.  The  Word  of  God  which 
is  pre-eminently  the  truth,  and  in  which  a 
truth-loving  heart  will  lead  you  to  rest,  dis- 
sipates the  spell,  reveals  the  snare  and  deliv- 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  98 

ers  from  the  plot.  It  paints  life  in  its  true 
colours,  tears  the  mask  from  the  face  of  guilt, 
disrobes  the  world  of  its  gorgeous  drapery, 
and  points  to  Him  who  is  emphatically  the 
way,  the  truth,  and  the  life.  All  the  rays  of 
moral  truth  ultimately  centre  in  the  cross  of 
the  Redeemer ;  and  we  never  reach  the  sum- 
mit of  wisdom  until  we  attain  that  life  which 
is  alike  the  knowledge  of  the  Father  and  of 
His  Son  Jesus  Christ.  Every  one,  says  the 
Saviour,  that  is  of  the  truth,  heareth  my  voice. 
None  perish  but  those  who  love  darkness 
rather  than  light.  A  deceived  heart  turns 
them  aside. 


C|£  faisz  of  Crttt^. 

*  Finally,  brethren,  -whatsoever  things  are  true — think  on 
these  things." — Philippians,  iv.  8. 

^^r.r.  ...  -.     In  my  last  discourse,  I  endeav- 
DTSr  TTT 1 

oured  to  demonstrate  that  the 

love  of  truth,  as  such,  was  a  duty,  from  the  con- 
stitution of  the  human  mind  ;  the  aptitude  of 
truth  to  enlarge  and  expand  it ;  the  intimate 
connection  betwixt  the  culture  of  our  moral 
and  intellectual  powers,  and  the  impossibility 
of  vindicating  the  obligation  of  specific  forms, 
without  recognizing  the  obligation  of  truth  in 
general.  I  was  led  to  show  that  we  are  re- 
sponsible for  our  opinions,  in  so  far  as  we  are 
responsible  foi  the  motives  and  influences  un- 
der which  we  form  them ;  that  the  operations 
of  the  unders'tanding  have  a  moral  character, 
inasmuch  as  the  impulse  of  curiosity,  like  all 
our  other  springs  of  action,  is  subject  to  the 


THE     LOVE     OF     TRUTH.  96 

direction  and  controul  of  the  moral  faculty. 
The  love  of  truth  for  itself  was  evinced  to  be 
the  law,  in  conformity  with  which  all  our  in- 
tellectual processes  should  be  conducted.  The 
end  of  every  inquiry  should  be  knowledge — 
the  aim  of  every  investigation  simple  and  un- 
adulterated truth.  To  guard  against  the  pos- 
sibility of  misapprehension,  it  may  be  well  to 
add  that,  in  inculcating  the  love  of  truth  as  a 
moral  obligation,  it  is  by  no  means  my  pur- 
pose to  imply,  that  all  men  are  bound  to  know 
all  truth.  There  is  a  great  difference  betwixt 
asserting  that  nothing  should  be  sought  which 
is  not  the  truth ;  and  that  every  thing  which 
is  the  truth,  is  the  appropriate  pursuit  of  every 
understanding. 

There  are  departments  of  inquiry  from 
which  the  natural  limitation  of  our  faculties 
precludes  us;  there  are  subjects  upon  which 
we  are  incompetent  to  speculate,  from  the 
want  of  congruity  betwixt  them  and  the  con- 
stitution of  our  own  minds;  and  as  long  as 
our  powers  remain  what  they  are,  they  must 
forever  be   to  us  an  unknown   world.     All 


96  THE     LOVE     OF  TRUTH. 

knowledge,  as  I  have  elsewhere  demonstrated 
at  some  length,  is  relative  in  its  nature,  and 
phenomenal  in  its  objects.  Whoever,  there- 
fore, would  seek  to  penetrate  into  properties 
of  things  to  which  our  faculties  are  not  ad- 
justed, overlooks  a  fundamental  condition  of 
the  possibility  of  knowledge ;  and  his  conclu- 
sions are  entitled  to  no  more  respect  than 
the  speculations  of  a  blind  man  upon  colours, 
or  of  a  deaf  man  upon  sounds.  There  are 
conditions  in  the  objects,  corresponding  to 
conditions  in  the  subjects,  of  knowledge,  one 
thing  is  set  over  against  another,  and  beyond 
the  limits  of  this  correspondence  it  is  folly  to 
push  our  inquiries.  Omniscience  is  the  pre- 
rogative of  God  alone.  Men  and  angels,  all 
creatures,  however  exalted,  must  be  forever 
doomed  to  write  over  boundless  regions  of 
truth,  "Hades,  an  unseen  world."  There  is 
light  there— light  in  which  God  dwells  and 
rejoices,  but  which  created  eyes  are  not  fitted 
to  receive.  To  inculcate  the  obligation  of 
universal  knowledge,  is  to  tell  men  to  forget 
that  they  are  men,  and  to  urge  them  upon  at- 


\ 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  97 

tempting  to  be  Gods.  It  would  be  to  incul- 
cate the  most  daring  presumption,  to  sanctify 
intolerable  arrogance  and  blasphemy.  The 
duty  to  seek  knowledge  can  never  transcend 
our  capacities.  We  are  not  bound  to  know 
what  our  faculties  are  unable  to  grasp;  and 
the  attempt  to  become  wise  beyond  the  laws 
of  our  nature,  has  always  been  rebuked,  in  the 
history  of  philosophy,  with  the  most  signal 
and  disastrous  failures.  Neither  is  it  the  duty 
of  all  men  to  seek  all  the  knowledge  which  is 
attainable  by  any.  The  circumstances  of 
multitudes  are  such,  that  their  inquiries  are 
necessarily  confined  within  narrow  limits. 
Their  time  and  attention  are  taken  up  with 
pressing  cares,  and  the  exigencies  of  life  leave 
no  leisure  for  abstracted  speculation.  The 
progress  of  knowledge,  too,  requires  that  those 
who  are  devoted  to  its  interests  should  di- 
vide their  labours.  Some  should  be  engaged 
in  one  department,  some  in  another.  Some 
should  give  themselves  to  the  sciences,  some 
to  the  arts,  some  to  elegant  letters,  and  others 
to  the  severer  studies  of  logic,  metaphysics, 


98  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

and  morals.  In  this  way  the  march  of  hu- 
manity is  accelerated, '  the  general  condition 
of  society  is  improved,  though  no  single  indi- 
vidual can  ever  hope  to  be  abreast  of  the 
whole  culture  of  the  age. 

What  particular  department  of  speculative 
truth  each  man  shall  select  for  himself,  and 
how  far  he  shall  prosecute  his  labours,  are 
questions  to  be  determined  by  the  circum- 
stances in  which  he  finds  himself  placed.  All 
that  I  assert  in  any  case  is,  that  it  is  an  indis- 
pensable duty,  in  whatever  inquiries  we  en- 
gage, to  aim  only  at  the  truth.  We  are  not 
bound  to  endeavour  after  universal  knowl- 
edge, but  we  are  bound  to  guard  against 
error,  and  to  receive  nothing  that  has  not 
the  stamp  of  truth.  All  truth  is  not  obliga- 
tory, but  nothing  but  truth  is  obligatory  on 
the  understanding.  No  man,  under  any  cir- 
cumstances, has  a  right  to  think  a  lie.  He  can 
no  more,  without  guilt,  administer  poison  to  his 
understanding  than  he  can  administer  it  to  his 
body. 

The  degree  of  knowledge  which  is  essential 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  99 

to  the  discharge  of  the  duties  of  any  sphere 
in  which  a  man  is  called  to  act,  and  to  the  ac- 
complishment of  his  destiny  as  a  moral  and 
responsible  being,  is  always  binding.  What 
the  exigencies  of  our  peculiar  and  distinctive 
vocations  as  artizans,  labourers,  or  members 
of  the  learned  professions  demand,  and  what 
our  general  calling  as  men,  made  in  the  image 
of  God,  and  destined  to  happiness  or  misery 
m  a  future  state,  according  to  our  character 
and  conduct  here,  requires,  it  is  incumbent 
upon  all  to  seek,  and  it  is  possible  for  all  to 
attain.  That  knowledge  which  pertains  to 
the  conduct  of  life,  is  accessible  to  all  upon 
whom  the  duties  of  life  are  imposed.  It  is 
the  only  knowledge  which  is  of  universal  ob- 
ligation; and  in  reference  to  it,  there  is  no 
need  to  inquire  who  shall  ascend  into  heaven, 
or  who  shall  descend  into  the  deep,  the  word 
is  nigh  us,  even  in  our  hearts  and  our  mouths. 
The  great  doctrines  of  man's  duty  and  destiny 
are  not  left  to  doubtful  disputations.  They 
are  proclaimed  upon  an  evidence  which  is 
open,  palpable,  authoritative ;  they  stand  upon 


100  THE    LOVE    OF    IKL'TH. 

the  testimony  of  God.  Wherever  the  Scrip- 
tures are  known,  it  is  the  imperative  duty  of 
all  to  know  Him,  the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus 
Christ  whom  He  has  sent.  No  cares,  no  busi- 
ness should  be  allowed  to  preclude  us  from 
the  fountain  of  life;  things  temporal  must 
yield  to  things  eternal — things  carnal  must 
give  way  to  the  spiritual — the  seen  and  per- 
ishing to  the  unseen  and  immortal.  The  Bible 
must  have  the  precedence  of  every  other 
book;  and  though  a  man  could  speak  with 
the  tongues  of  angels,  and  understand  all 
mysteries,  and  subdue  all  nations  in  obedience 
to  his  will,  yet  if  he  were  destitute  of  that 
knowledge  which  makes  him  wise  unto  salva- 
tion, with  all  his  boasted  attainments  he  would 
be  but  a  chattering  fool,  but  as  a  sounding 
brass  or  a  tinkling  cymbal.  This  knowledge, 
then,  in  its  essential  elements  as  bearing  upon 
our  destiny  as  men,  is  of  universal  obligation. 
This  pearl  of  great  price  we  must  purchase, 
though  we  sacrifice  all  our  other  possessions 
to  gain  it.  With  these  explanations  and  lim- 
itations, I  proceed  to  point  out  in  what  the 


THE     LOVE     OF     TRUTH.  101 

love  of  truth  essentially  consists,  and  to  indi- 
cate some  of  the  temptations  to  which  the 
young  particularly  are  exposed  to  disre- 
gard it. 

I  need  not  say  a  word  in  reference  to  the 
importance  of  these  points.  With  all  our  com- 
mendations of  the  beauty,  the  glory,  the  ex- 
cellency of  truth,  it  must  yet  be  acknowledged, 
that  the  temper  of  mind  which  is  most  favour- 
able to  the  successful  pursuit  of  it,  is  exceed- 
ingly rare,  even  among  those  whose  professed 
business  is  to  seek  and  explain  it.  Composed 
as  men  are  oi  conflicting  elements,  as  evi- 
dently disordered  in  their  understandings  as 
they  are  in  their  affections,  liable  to  the  per- 
versions of  passion  and  interest,  apt  to  con- 
found the  zeal  of  prejudice  with  earnestness 
of  principle,  the  affectation  of  vanity  with 
brilliancy  of  genius ;  eager  for  applause,  and 
not  always  scrupulous  about  the  means  of 
securing  it,  the  last  spectacle  which  they 
exhibit  is  the  true  spirit  of  philosophy;  the 
motive  which  least  vigourously  impels  them 
is  the  ingenuous  love  of  knowledge.     I  can- 


102  THE     LOVE     OF  TRUTH. 

not  better  introduce  what  I  have  to  suggest 
upon  the  nature  of  the  love  of  truth,  which  I 
have  been  endeavouring  to  commend,  than  in 
the  words  of  Locke,  a  competent  authority 
upon  this  subject,  having  been  himself  a  dis 
tinguished  example  of  the  spirit  he  incul 
Gates : 

"First,"  says  he,*  "a  man  must  not  be  in 
love  with  any  opinion,  or  wish  it  to  be  true, 
till  he  knows  it  to  be  so,  and  then  he  will  not 
need  to  wish  it ;  for  nothing  that  is  false  can 
deserve  our  good  wishes,  nor  a  desire  that  it 
should  have  the  place  and  force  of  truth. 
Secondly,  he  must  do  that  which  he  will  find 
himself  very  averse  to,  as  judging  the  thing 
unnecessary,  or  himself  incapable  of  doing  it. 
He  must  try  whether  his  principles  be  cer- 
tainly true  or  not,  and  how  far  he  may  safely 
rely  upon  them.  In  these  two  things,  viz., 
an  equal  indiiferency  for  all  truth:  I  mean 
the  receiving  it,  in  the  love  of  it,  as  truth, 
but  not  loving  it  for  any  other  reason,  before 
we  know  it  to  be  true ;  and  in  the  examina- 

*  Conduct  of  the  Understanding. 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  103 

tion  of  our  principles,  and  not  receiving  any 
for  such,  nor  building  on  them,  till  we  are 
fully  convinced,  as  rational  creatures,  of  their 
solidity,  truth  and  certainty,  consists  the  free- 
dom of  the  understanding,  which  is  necessary 
to  a  rational  creature,  and  without  which  it  is 
not  truly  an  understanding."  We  are  not  to 
confound  the  indifference  of  which  Locke 
here  speaks  as  to  what  is  true,  previous  to 
the  discovery,  with  indifference  to  the  truth 
itself;  neither  are  we  to  suppose  that  he  com- 
mends a  spirit  which  is  at  all  indifferent  to 
the  search  after  truth.  On  the  other  hand, 
he  would  have  us  eager  in  the  pursuit,  im- 
partial in  our  inquiries,  and  established  in  our 
conclusions ;  zealous  for  truth,  when  truth  is 
found,  and  ardent  in  quest  of  it,  while  it  yet 
lies  undiscovered  before  us ;  guarding  equally 
against  the  partiality  which  would  pervert 
and  the  lethargy  which  would  arrest  the  ef- 
forts of  the  understanding.  He  is  a  slave  to 
ignorance,  who  is  too  idle  to  examine ;  he  is 
a  slave  to  prejudice  who  believes  without,  or 
independentl}-   of,  evidence.     An   exemption 


104  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

from  indolence  or  apathy,,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  all  irregular  biasses  on  the  other,  an  ex- 
emption founded  upon  the  very  anxiety  to 
escape  from  the  stagnation  of  ignorance  and 
the  impostures  of  error,  is  the  freedom  of  the 
understanding  which  Locke  pronounces  to  be 
essential  to  a  rational  nature — without  which, 
it  may  be  ^'  conceit,  fancy,  extravagance,  any 
thing,"  but  not  "  an  understanding."  It  is 
this  freedom  Avhich  constitutes  the  love  of 
truth,  or  rather  this  freedom  is  the  only  means 
by  which  the  love  of  truth  can  be  exemplified 
and  curiosity  directed  to  its  appropriate  ob- 
jects. 

The  whole  duty  of  man,  in  regard  to  the 
conduct  of  his  understanding,  may  be  referred 
to  the  single  comprehensive  principle,  that 
evidence  is  the  measure  of  assent.  This  is 
the  light  which  alone  can  make  it  manifest, 
and  by  this  light,  and  this  light  alone,  are  we 
commanded  to  walk.  The  understanding,  as 
the  instrument  of  truth,  has  for  its  guide  the 
laws  of  belief;  and  it  is  in  virtue  of  these 
laws,  that  it  is  so  admirably  adapted  to  the 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  105 

exercise  of  intelligence.  Truth  to  us  is,  and 
can  be  only  relative.  Things  in  their  own 
natures,  in  their  essences  and  quiddities,  we 
are  incapable  of  apprehending.  That  alone 
is  truth  to  us  which  the  constitution  of 
our  nature  either  immediately,  or  mediately, 
prompts  us  to  believe.  Its  fundamental  con- 
dition is  confidence  in  our  faculties ;  and  the 
convictions  which  are  produced  in  conformity 
to  the  laws  of  our  rational  nature,  the  appear- 
ances of  things  to  the  human  understanding, 
when  healthfully  exercised,  these  constitute 
the  ultimate  measures  of  truth  and  falsehood. 
That  is  to  us  which  appears  to  be,  and  is  only 
in  so  far  as  it  ap^pears.  Beyond  these  ajpjpear- 
ances  our  faculties  can  never  penetrate.  In- 
telligence, or  the  apprehension  of  truth,  in- 
volves judgment,  belief,  conviction  of  cer- 
tainty, not  merely  that  the  thing  is  there,  but, 
to  use  a  sensible  analogy,  seen  to  be  there. 
There  must  be  a  constitution  of  mind  adapted 
to  that  specific  activity  by  which  it  believes 
and  judges ;  as  it  is  only  by  virtue  of  such  a 
constitution  that  the  conception  of  knowledge 


106  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

y/'  becomes  possible.  This  preparation  of  the 
mind  to  know,  or  its  adaptation  to  intelli- 
gence, consists  in  subjecting  it  to  laws  of  be- 
lief under  which  it  must  conduct  its  own  op- 
erations. Its  energies  can  be  exercised  only 
under  the  condition  that  it  shall  know,  or  be- 
lieve. As  it  is  the  necessity  of  belief  which 
distinguishes  intelligent  action  from  every 
other  species  of  operation,  there  must  exist  in 
the  mind,  as  a  part  of  its  very  structure,  nat- 
ural tendencies  to  certain  manners  of  belief, 
to  be  developed  as  soon  as  its  activities  are 
called  forth.  In  their  dormant  state,  as  they 
exist  antecedently  to  experience,  they  are 
only  necessities  of  thinking;  but  developed 
by  experience  and  generalized  into  abstract 
statements,  they  are  original  and  elementary 
cognitions,  the  foundation  and  criteria  of  all 
knowledge.  They  are  the  standard  of  evi- 
dence, the  constitutive  and  regulative  princi- 
ples of  intelligence,  the  light  of  the  mind, 
and  without  them,  the  mind  could  no  more 
be  conceived  to  know  than  a  blind  man  to 
see.     Through   them  we  know  and   believe 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  '       107 

every  thing  else,  they  are  vouchers  and  guar- 
antees for  all  the  truth  which  it  falls  to  the 
lot  of  man  to  apprehend.  To  regulate  belief 
by  evidence  is,  accordingly,  to  receive  no- 
thing which  is  not  either  an  original  convic- 
tion, or  capable  of  being  resolved  into  one. 
As  we  know  by  and  through  the  mind,  we 
can  only  know  according  to  the  laws  of  mind. 
All  error  may  consequently  be  traced  to  some 
transgression  of  the  laws  of  belief  There 
can  be  no  doubt,  that  if  all  the  conditions 
which  ought  to  be  observed  in  the  processes 
of  the  understanding,  were  faithfully  regard- 
ed, there  would  be  no  danger  of  fallacy,  or 
mistake.  Error  is  the  result  of  disobedience, 
or  inattention  to  the  intelligent  constitution 
of  our  own  nature  ;  and  the  punishment  of  in- 
tellectual guilt.  To  follow  nature,  as  that  na- 
ture came  from  the  hands  of  God,  is  to  be 
conducted  to  truth  as  well  as  to  duty. 

If  the  primary  data  of  consciousness  are 
the  standard  and  measure  of  evidence,  there 
are  but  two  ways  in  which  we  are  liable  to 
be  misled  and  deceived ;  the  first,  is  in  assuiu-  J 


108  THE    LOVE     OF    TRUTH. 

ing  as  an  original  conviction,  or  the  legiti- 
mate product  of  such  convictions,;  what  is 
only  the  dictate  of  authority,  custom,  educa- 
tion, or  desire;  and  the  second  is,  in  misap- 
plying the  data  of  consciousness  to  the  cases 
which  are  actually  submitted  to  the  decisions 
of  the  understanding.  We  mistake  the  real 
nature  of  the  phenomena,  and  accordingly  ap- 
ply to  them  laws  which  are  not  applicable. 
In  other  words,  we  are  liable  to  err  by  having 
a  wrong  standard  of  judgment,  or  by  using  a 
right  standard  improperly.  These  are  the 
heads  to  which  it  seems  to  me  all  prejudice, 
however  originated,  may  be  at  last  referred. 
They  give  rise  to  skepticism  and  falsehood. 
He  who  confounds  the  dictates  of  education, 
or  authority,  with  the  primary  convictions  of 
nature,  not  only  exposes  himself  to  the  danger 
of  serious  and  fatal  mistakes,  but  prepares  the 
way  for  the  utter  annihilation  of  the  essential 
distinctions  betwixt  truth  and  falsehood.  The 
origin  and  nature  of  skepticism  have  been  ad- 
mirably described  by  Sir  William  Hamilton.* 

*  Philosophical  Discourses.     Article  on  Brown. 


THE    LOVE    OF    TKUTH.  109 

"  Our  knowledge,"  says  he,  ''  rests  ultimately 
on  certain  facts  of  consciousness,  which,  as 
primitive,  and  consequently  incomprehensi- 
ble, are  given  less  in  the  form  of  cognitions, 
than  of  beliefs.  But  if  consciousness,  in  its 
last  analysis,  in  other  words,  if  our  primary 
experience  be  a  faith,  the  reality  of  our 
knowledge  turns  on  the  veracity  of  our  gen- 
erative beliefs.  As  ultimate,  the  quality  of 
these  beliefs  cannot  be  inferred ;  their  truth, 
however,  is,  in  the  first  instance,  to  be  pre- 
sumed. As  given  and  possessed,  they  must 
stand  good  until  refuted ;  neganti  incumbit 
probatio.  Intelligence  cannot  gratuitously 
annihilate  itself;  nature  is  not  to  be  assumed 
to  work  in  vain,  nor  the  author  of  nature 
to  create  only  to  deceive.  But  though  the 
truths  of  our  instinctive  faith  must  original- 
ly be  admitted,  their  falsehood  may  subse- 
quently be  established;  this,  however,  only 
through  themselves,  only  on  the  ground  of 
their  reciprocal  contradiction.  Is  this  con- 
tradiction proved?  the  edifice  of  our  knowl- 
edge is  undermined ;  for  no  lie  is  of  the  truth. 


y 


110  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

Consciousness  is  to  the  philosopher  what  the 
Bible  is  to  the  theologian.  Both  are  pro- 
fessed revelations  of  Divine  truth ;  both  ex- 
clusively supply  the  constitutive  elements  of 
knowledge,  and  the  regulative  standard  of  its 
construction.  Each  may  be  disproved,  but 
disproved  only  by  itself  If  one  or  other  re- 
veal facts  which,  as  mutually  repugnant,  can- 
not but  be  false,  the  authenticity  of  that  rev- 
elation is  invalidated ;  and  the  criticism  which 
signalizes  this  self-refutation  has,  in  either  case, 
been  able  to  convert  assurance  into  skepti- 
cism— to  turn  the  truth  of  God  into  a  lie. 
As  psychology  is  only  a  developed  conscious- 
ness, the  positive  philosopher  has  thus  a  pri- 
mary presumption  in  favour  of  the  elements, 
out  of  which  his  system  is  constructed ;  while 
the  skeptic  or  negative  philosopher  must  be 
content  to  argue  back  to  the  falsehood  of 
those  elements,  from  the  impossibility  which 
the  dogmatist  may  experience  in  combining 
them  into  the  harmony  of  truth.  For  truth  is 
one,  and  the  end  of  philosophy  is  the  intuition 
of  unity.     Skepticism  is  not  an  original  or  in- 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  Ill 

dependent  method.  It  is  the  correlevant  and 
consequent  of  dogmatism;  and  so  far  from 
being  an  enemy  to  truth,  it  arises  only  from  a 
false  philosophy,  as  its  indication  and  its  cure. 
The  skeptic  must  not  himself  establish^  but 
from  the  dogmatist,  accept  his  principles ;  and 
his  conclusion  is  only  a  reduction  of  philoso- 
phy to  zero,  on  the  hypothesis  of  the  doctrine 
from  which  his  premises  are  borrowed.  Are 
the  principles  which  a  peculiar  system  in- 
volves, convicted  of  contradiction,  or  are  these 
principles  proved  repugnant  to  others  which, 
as  facts  of  consciousness,  every  positive  phi- 
losophy must^  admit,  then  is  established  a  rela- 
tive skepticism,  or  conclusion,  that  philosophy, 
so  far  as  realized  in  this  system,  is  groundless. 
Again,  are  the  principles  Avhich,  as  facts  of 
consciousness,  philosophy,  in  general,  must 
comprehend,  found  exclusive  of  each  other, 
there  is  established  an  absolute  skepticism; 
the  impossibility  of  all  philosophy  is  involved 
in  the  negation  of  the  one  criterion  of  truth. 
Our  statement  may  be  reduced  to  a  dilemma. 
Either  the  facts  of  consciousness  can  be  recon- 


112  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

ciled,  or  they  cannot.  If  they  cannot,  knowl- 
edge absolutely  is  impossible,  and  every  sys- 
tem of  philosophy  therefore  false.  If  they 
can,  no  system  which  supposes  their  incon- 
sistency can  pretend  to  truth."  It  is  the  office 
of  the  skeptic  to  bring  the  different  powers 
of  the  soul  into  a  state  of  unnatural  collision, 
and  to  set  our  faculties  at  war,  to  involve  their 
functions  in  suspicion — to  make  the  deduc- 
tions of  the  understanding  contradict  original 
convictions  of  nature,  or  these  original  con- 
victions contradict  themselves  in  the  conclu- 
sions they  legitimate,  and  thus  to  sap  the 
foundations  of  knowledge,  to  annihilate  all 
certainty,  to  reduce .  truth  and  falsehood  to  a 
common  insignificance,  and  expose  the  mind 
to  endless  perplexity,  confusion,  and  despair. 
The  danger  of  receiving  as  maxims  what  are 
not  entitled  to  the  dignity,  extends  much  be- 
yond the  immediate  errors  in  which  they  in- 
volve us.  It  is  not  that  they  generate  a  rash 
dogmatism,  but  that  they  afford  the  materials 
of  undermining  the  whole  temple  of  knowl- 
edge,   which    creates    their    mischief      The 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  113 

skeptic  accepts  them  at  the  hands  of  the  dog- 
matist, and  uses  them  as  instruments  of  death. 
Hence,  the  importance,  in  the  language  of 
Locke,  of  accustoming  ourselves  "  in  any  ques- 
tion proposed,  to  examine  and  find  out  upon 
what  it  bottoms.  Most  of  the  difficulties  that 
come  in  our  way,  when  well  considered  and 
traced,  lead  us  to  some  proposition  which, 
known  to  be  true,  clears  the  doubt,  and  gives 
an  easy  solution  of  the  question."  The  mis- 
chief which  maxims  rashly  accepted  as  intui- 
tive judgments  or  well-drawn  conclusions, 
have  done  to  the  cause  of  truth,  both  in  phi- 
losophy and  religion,  is  incalculable.  A  sin- 
gle crotchet  of  philosophers,  that  the  relation 
of  knowledge  implies  an  analogy  of  the  sub- 
ject and  the  object,  involved  for  centuries  the 
whole  subject  of  perception,  and  the  mode  of 
our  knowledge  of  the  external  world  in  con- 
fusion, hypothesis  and  contradiction.  The 
ideal  theory  was  the  offspring  of  this  simple 
proposition ;  and  it  might  even  yet  retain  its 
ascendency  in  the  schools,  if  the  skepticism 
of  Hume,  at  once  the  indication  and  cure  of 


114  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

the  disorder,  had  not  arisen  and  prepared  the 
way  for  a  sounder  metaphysics.  The  Scribes 
and  Pharisees  took  it  to  be  a  maxim,  that  no 
good  thing  could  come  out  of  Nazareth ;  and 
upon  the  absurd  dogma  founded  the  belief 
that  Jesus  was  an  impostor.  The  "  soft  en- 
thusiast" receives  it  as  an  axiom,  that  the 
benevolence  of  God  rejoices  in  the  happiness 
of  His  creatures  simply  and  for  itself,  and 
hence  proceeds  to  the  denial  of  government, 
and  especially  the  operations  of  penal  jus- 
tice. 

It  deserves  to  be  particularly  remarked, 
that  the  mind  very  frequently  assumes,  with- 
out the  formality  of  distinct  enunciation,  as 
self-evident  truths,  a  class  of  propositions  from 
which  it  would  recoil,  if  stated  in  words.  It 
silently  and  imperceptibly  takes  them  for 
granted.  They  enter  into  its  reasonings 
without  its  being  distinctly  conscious  of  their 
presence.  Some  men  are  tenacious  of  opin- 
ions, because  they  are  the  characteristics  of  a 
party  or  a  sect;  because  they  are  recom- 
mended   by  high  authority,   and   have   been 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  115 

sanctioned  by  a  long,  uninquiring  acqui- 
escence. "When  any  of  these  maxims  are 
brought  to  the  test,"  no  man  who  pretends  to 
reason  will  hesitate  to  condemn  them  as  falli- 
ble and  uncertain;  and  "such,"  as  Mr.  Locke 
expresses  it,  "as  he  will  not  allow  in  those 
that  differ  from  him,  yet  after  he  is  convinced 
of  this,  you  shall  see  him  go  on  in  the  use  of 
them,  and  the  very  next  occasion  that  offers 
argue  again  upon  the  same  grounds." 

The  criteria  by  which  the  fundamental  data 
of  consciousness  are  recognized,  are  suffi- 
ciently plain  for  all  the  purposes  of  life.  The 
difficulty  consists  not  in  their  obscurity  or 
confusion,  but  in  our  own  reluctance  to  exam- 
ine the  grounds  of  our  belief,  and  to  bring 
every  proposition  to  the  law  and  to  the  testi- 
mony. We  love  opinions  instead  of  truth. 
We  are  pleased  with  dogmas  upon  other  and 
independent  grounds,  and  are  insensibly  led, 
by  our  passions  and  desires,  to  transform  our- 
selves from  candid  and  impartial  inquirers 
into  earnest  and  interested  advocates.  Edu- 
cation makes  authority  tantamount  to  nature. 


116  THE    LOVPJ    OF    TRUTH. 

and  we  quietly  treat  as  intuitively  obvious, 
what  we  caught  from  the  nursery  and  cradle, 
without  having  ever  seriously  asked  ourselves, 
whether  these  principles  are  indeed  distin- 
guished by  the  marks  and  characters  of  orig- 
inal convictions.  Hence,  error  is  perpetuated 
from  age  to  age.  One  generation  transmits  a 
legacy  of  lies  to  another ;  and  the  dreams  of 
tranquillity  are  not  disturbed  until  some 
threatening  form  of  skepticism  arises,  that 
compels  examination  and  enforces  inquiry. 
The  first  duty,  therefore,  which  the  love  of 
truth  exacts  at  our  hands,  is  to  look  well  to 
our  principles,  to  prove  all  things,  and  to  hold 
fast  that  which  is  good.  Bring  every  thing 
to  the  standard  of  evidence  which  our  nature 
supplies.  This  is  the  only  light  which  we  are 
at  liberty  to  follow.  A  blind  and  implicit 
reception  of  any  principles,  however  sacred, 
without  satisfactory  evidence,  is  alike  con- 
demned by  the  Scriptures  and  the  voice  of 
reason.  This  mechanical  faith  is  not  an  exer- 
cise of  the  understanding ;  it  is  a  passive  ac- 
quiescence in  the  circumstances   which   sur- 


THE    LOVE    OF     TRUTH.  117 

round  us.  Such  a  man  does  not  think,  he  is 
thought  for;  he  is  simply  crammed  with  the 
cogitations  of  other  minds,  as  a  cook  crams  a 
bird  with  food.  Let  a  man  be  rigidly  indif- 
ferent as  to  what  shall  prove  to  be  truth,  keep 
all  passion,  interest  or  disturbing  influences  at 
a  distance,  and  patient  examination  will  most 
certainly  conduct  him  to  the  light  of  real  evi- 
dence. 

The  other  form  in  which  prejudice  operates, 
is  by  distorting  the  appearances  of  things,  so 
as  to  make  us  upon  true  principles  pronounce 
wrong  judgments.  Our  faculties  are  not  put 
in  complete  possession  of  the  case.  This  is 
especially  true  of  moral  and  religious  subjects. 
In  all  such  subjects,  the  evidence  is  tinged  by 
the  complexion  of  the  mind;  and  although 
the  judgment  may  be  right  according  to  the 
evidence  as  presented,  it  is  not  right  accord- 
ing to  the  evidence  as  it  exists  in  itself  It  is 
a  jaundiced  eye  misjudging  of  colours.  That 
there  is  a  connection  betwixt  the  state  of  the 
soul  and  the  perception  of  moral  and  divine 
truth,  was  a  principle  admitted  even  by  the 


118  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

heathen  philosophers.  Aristotle  expressly 
announces  it,  and  the  celebrated  fable  of  the 
wolf  learning  to  read  was  especially  designed 
to  illustrate  it.  Depravity  of  heart  and  the 
indulgence  of  corrupt  and  wicked  passions 
not  only  give  rise  to  false  measures  of  truth, 
but  false  applications  of  the  true  measures  of 
good  and  evil.  In  this  double  operation  con- 
sists what  the  Scriptures  denominate  the  de- 
ceitfulness  of  sin.  Things  are  represented  in 
disguise — bitter  put  for  sweet,  sweet  for  bit- 
ter;  and  through  the  fatal  force  and  impos- 
ture of  words,  the  fraud  is  concealed  and 
propagated.  Thus,  parsimony  may  have  the 
credit  of  frugality,  and  a  spirit  of  revenge  be 
dignified  as  sensibility  to  honour,  and  extrav- 
agance or  prodigality  receive  the  praise 
which  is  due  to  liberality.  The  passions 
make  out  a  false  case,  and  hence  a  false  judg- 
ment is  necessarily  rendered.  The  ablest  ad- 
vocate of  the  passions  on  such  occasions  is  the 
power  of  association.  Let  unpleasant  ideas 
be  connected  with  a  name,  and  they  will  be 
transferred  to  every  thing  to  which  the  name 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  119 

is  applied.  A  slaveholder  at  the  North  is  the 
very  embodiment  of  evil,  and  an  abolitionist 
at  the  South  an  emissary  of  darkness.  It  is 
the  trick  of  politicians  to  bandy  epithets; 
words  being  the  counters  of  wise  men,  but 
the  coin  of  fools.  You  might  not  be  able  to 
injure  a  man's  principles ;  but  call  him  some 
hateful  name,  and  you  effectually  destroy  him. 
There  is  no  subject  in  regard  to  which  the 
young  should  be  more  constantly  on  their 
guard,  than  the  sophistry  of  the  heart.  In  a 
right  ordered  mind,  adaptation  to  its  state  is 
the  highest  evidence  of  good ;  and  when  the 
heart  is  corrupt,  the  things  which  are  suitable 
to  it  will  still  be  prized  as  objects  of  desire, 
and  invested  with  all  those  properties  and 
attributes  which  belong  to  real  excellence. 
It  will  still  make  analogy,  or  correspondence 
to  its  prevailing  tastes  and  inclinations,  the 
practical  criterion  of  truth.  As  the  relation 
of  assent  can  never  freely  and  cheerfully  ob- 
tain, where  the  mind  and  proposition  are  not 
homogeneous — sympathy  being,  in  this,  as  in 
all  other  cases,  essential  to  union— it  is  clear 


120  THE     LOVE     OF  TRUTH. 

that  wickedness  has  a  fearful  power  in  seduc- 
ing the  understanding  into  error.  It  has  but 
to  seize  upon  this  principle  of  fitness,  to  make 
the  feeling  of  proportion  to  its  own  tastes,  of 
correspondence  and  congruity  with  its  own 
dispositions  or  desires,  the  measure  of  good, 
in  order  to  fill  the  mind  with  prejudices,  and 
to  erect  a  standard  of  practical  truth,  which 
must  fatally  pervert  the  judgment.  Taylor 
has  well  observed  that  *'  a  man's  mind  must 
be  like  your  proposition  before  it  can  be  en- 
tertained ;  for  whatever  you  put  into  a  man, 
it  will  smell  of  the  vessel.  It  is  a  man's  mind 
that  gives  the  emphasis,  and  makes  your  ar- 
gument to  prevail."  Hence,  as  the  same 
eloquent  writer  again  remarks,  "  It  is  not  the 
wit  of  man,  but  the  spirit  of  a  man,  not  so 
much  his  head  as  his  heart,  that  learns  the 
Divine  philosophy."  Moral  is  not  more  dis- 
tinguished from  mathematical  reasoning  by 
the  fact,  that  it  admits  of  degrees,  than  by 
the  equally  important  fact,  that  these  de- 
grees may  be  indefinitely  modified  by  our 
tempers,  dispositions  and  habits.     Even   the 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  121 

transient  humour,  in  which  we  may  chance  to 
be,  has  often  a  controlling  influence.  The 
same  circumstance  which  in  one  state  of  mind 
would  carry  no  weight  with  it,  in  another 
might  amount  to  a  very  high  degree  of  cer- 
tainty, just  as  in  one  state  of  mind  a  phenom- 
enon may  be  eminently  suggestive,  which  in 
another  would  pass  unheeded.  Newton,  no 
doubt,  had  often  seen  apples  fall,  but  the 
event  was  insignificant  until  he  happened  to 
be  in  a  particular  vein  of  speculation.  "Tri- 
fles," which  to  the  generous  and  unsuspecting 
seem  "light  as  air,  are  to  the  jealous  confir- 
mation strong  as  proof  of  Holy  Writ."  While, 
therefore,  it  is  true  that  a  man's  faith  will 
always  be  according  to  his  apprehension  of 
the  evidence,  it  is  not  true  that  in  moral  sub- 
jects the  evidence  will  always  be  apprehended 
in  its  just  proportions.  It  may  be  perverted, 
distorted,  discoloured,  or  reduced  to  nothing ; 
the  facts  which  contain  it  may  fail  to  suggest 
it,  or  suggest  it  feebly  and  inadequately.  To 
a  man  under  the  habitual  dominion  of  cov- 

etousness,  it  is  impossible  to  represent  in  its 

6 


tSSZ  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

true  light  an  enterprise  of  charity ;  to  a  glut- 
ton lost  in  sensuality,  or  a  sot  reduced  to  the 
condition  of  a  brute,  all  discourses  upon  man's 
sublime  gifts  must  be  unmeaning.  The  vo- 
luptuary and  debauchee  cannot  comprehend 
the  dignity  and  excellence  of  self-denial. 
The  proud  will  turn  in  disgust  from  lessons 
of  humility,  and  the  envious  sneer  at  the  ob- 
ligation of  benevolence.  It  is  an  universal 
rule,  that  sin  darkens  the  understanding,  while 
it  corrupts  the  heart.  It  is  as  inconsistent 
with  the  just  appreciation  of  evidence  as  with 
the  faithful  discharge  of  duty.  Hence,  it  was 
a  custom  in  the  ancient  schools  of  philosophy 
to  spend  some  time  in  trials  and  examinations 
of  the  genius  and  disposition  of  their  scholars 
before  they  admitted  them  to  the  sublime  in- 
structions of  the  sect.  The  Platonists  partic- 
ularly laid  down  severe  rules  for  "  the  purga- 
tion of  the  soul,  for  refining  and  purifying  it 
from  the  contagion  of  the  body  and  the  infec- 
tion it  might  have  contracted  from  the  sensi- 
tive life,  in  order  to  fit  and  prepare  it  for  the 
contemplation    of   intellectual    and    abstract 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  123 

truths."  One  greater  than  Plato  or  Aristotle, 
the  master  of  a  nobler  philosophy  than  ever 
sprang  from  earth,  has  enjoined  it  as  the  con- 
dition of  knowing  divine  truth,  that  we  culti- 
vate the  spirit  of  universal  obedience.  He 
that  will  do  God's  will,  shall  know  of  the 
doctrine. 

There  is  no  principle  which  needs  to  be 
more  strenuously  inculcated,  than  that  evi- 
dence alone  should  be  the  measure  of  assent. 
In  reference  to  this  principle,  the  whole  disci- 
pline of  the  understanding  must  be  conducted. 
Our  anxiety  should  be  to  guard  against  all  the 
influences  which  preclude  the  access  of  evi- 
dence, incapacitate  us  to  appreciate  its  value, 
and  give  false  measures  of  judgment,  instead 
of  the  natural  and  legitimate  laws  of  belief 
All  real  evidence  we  are  bound  to  receive,  ac- 
cording to  the  weight  which  it  womld  have,  in 
a  sound  and  healthful  condition  of  the  soul. 
It  is  a  defect  in  the  mind  not  to  be  able  to 
appreciate  its  lowest  degrees.  That  is  a 
feeble  and  must  be  a  fickle  mind  which,  fool- 
ishly demanding  certainty  on  all  the  questions 


Itf: 


^!^ 


124  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

submitted  to  its  judgment,  cannot  proportion 
its  faith  to  the  amount  of  light  it  enjoys. 
Dissatisfied  with  probability,  and  ever  in  quest 
of  what  the  circumstances  of  our  case  put 
hopelessly  beyond  our  reach,  such  men,  like 
Noah's  dove,  will  seek  in  vain  for  a  spot  on 
which  they  can  rest.  Probability  is  the  guide 
of  life;  and  he  who  resolves  to  believe  no- 
thing but  what  he  can  demonstrate,  acts  in 
open  defiance  of  the  condition  of  sublunary 
existence.  There  are  many  things  herp  which 
we  can  only  see  through  a  glass  darkly.  Our 
duty  is  to  walk  by  the  light  which  we  have. 
God  commands  us  to  yield  to  all  evidence  that 
is  real  in  precise  proportion  to  its  strength. 
Evidence,  and  that  alone,  He  has  made  it  ob- 
ligatory on  our  understandings  to  pursue ;  and 
whatever  opinions  we  hold  that  are  not  the  off- 
spring of  ewdence,  that  have  come  to  us  merely 
from  education,  authority,  custom,  or  passion, 
however  true  and  valuable  they  may  be  in 
themselves,  are  not  held  by  us  in  the  spirit  of 
truth.  These  measures  of  assent  are  only  pre- 
sumptions, which   should    stimulate   inquiry, 


THE     LOVE     OF     TRUTH.  125 

and  breed  modesty  and  caution.  They  are 
helps  to'our  faith,  but  should  never  be  made 
the  props  of  it. 

Hence,  all  efforts  to  restrict  freedom  of  de- 
bate and  the  liberty  of  the  press  should  be 
watched  with  caution,  as  prejudicial  to  the 
eliciting  of  evidence,  and  the  defence  and 
propagation  of  the  truth.  But  little  is  gained 
if  opinions  are  crammed  into  men,  and  this  is 
likely  to  be  the  case  where  they  are  not  per- 
mitted to  inquire  and  to  doubt.  At  the  same 
time  it  must  be  remembered,  that  no  spirit  is 
more  unfriendly  to  that  indifference  of  mind, 
so  essential  to  freedom  of  inquiry,  than  that 
which  arises  in  the  conduct  of  controversy. 
When  we  become  advocates,  we  lay  aside  the 
garb  of  philosophers.  The  desire  of  victory 
is  often  stronger  than  the  love  of  truth ;  and 
pride,  jealousy,  ambition  and  envy,  identify- 
ing ourselves  with  our  opinions,  will  lend 
their  aid  to  pervert  our  judgments,  and  to  se- 
duce us  from  our  candour.  A  disputatious 
spirit  is  always  the  mark  of  a  little  mind. 
The  cynic  may  growl,  but  he  can  never  aspire 


126  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

to  dignity  of  character.  There  are  undoubt- 
edly occasions  when  we  must  contend  ear- 
nestly for  the  truth  ;  but  when  we  buckle  on 
the  panoply  of  controversy,  we  should  look 
well  to  our  own  hearts,  that  no  motives  ani- 
mate us  but  the  love  of  truth  and  zeal  for  the 
highest  interests  of  man. 

I  am  apt  to  suspect  that  the  habit  which  is 
not  unfrequently  recommended,  as  a  means 
of  intellectual  discipline,  of  arguing  on  the 
wrong  side  of  a  question,  as  a  trial  of  in- 
genuity and  skill,  is  inconsistent  with  in- 
genuity of  mind.  It  is  sporting  with  false- 
hood, trifling  with  evidence,  and  must  event- 
ually produce  a  fondness  for  sophistry,  which 
will  ultimately  destroy  solidity  of  judgment. 
Beside  this,  to  use  arguments  as  conclusive 
which  we  do  not  believe  to  be  possessed  of 
that  character,  is  very  near  to  a  deliberate 
lie.  It  is  a  practice  closely  allied  to  pious 
frauds. 

But  the  most  serious  dangers  to  which  a 
young  man  is  exposed,  of  surrendering  the  in- 


THE    LOVE     OF    TRUTH.  127 

terests  of  truth,  are  those  which  arise  from 
vanity  or  shame. 

The  love  of  applause  which,  studious  only 
of  appearances,  substitutes  hypocrisy  for  vir- 
tue, rashness  for  courage,  and  pedantry  for 
learning,  will  court  reputation  rather  from 
the  glitter  of  paradox  than  the  steady  light 
of  truth.  He  whose  end  is  to  elicit  admira- 
tion, who  aims  to  seem,  not  to  he  a  philoso- 
pher, will  prefer  plausibility  to  evidence,  in- 
genuity to  reasoning,  and  singularity  to  gen- 
eral consent.  When  the  ambition  of  notorie- 
ty, which  ought  not  to  occupy  the  subordi- 
nate position  of  an  incidental  motive,  usurps 
the  place  of  an  end  of  inquiry,  its  disturbing 
influences  upon  the  integrity  of  the  mind,  are 
not  less  disastrous,  than  the  effects  of  ostenta- 
tion in  morals  upon  the  sincerity  of  the  heart. 
The  laws  of  evidence  cease  to  be  regarded ; 
novelty,  not  truth,  becomes  the  measure  of 
assent ;  astonishment,  not  conviction,  the  aim 
of  argument;  and  the  stare  of  wonder  is 
deemed  a  more  pleasing  tribute  than  substan- 
tial esteem.     The  excui    ons  of  this  insane 


128  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

principle  are  marked  by  opposition  to  the 
settled  opinions  of  the  race,  fierce  and  malig- 
nant, in  proportion  to  their  worth,  and  by  a 
prolific  ingenuity  in  the  invention  of  error. 
As  the  reputation  of  sagacity  and  superior 
discernment  is  the  prize  to  be  won,  he  prom- 
ises to  be  the  most  successful  competitor,  who 
triumphs  over  the  general  persuasion  of  man- 
kind, who  detects  flaws  and  elements  of  false- 
hood in  the  faith  of  generations,  and  rears  a 
new  fabric  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  upon 
the  ruins  of  ancient  ignorance  and  supersti- 
tion. To  such  men,  nothing  is  venerable,  no- 
thing sacred.  They  penetrate  the  depths  of 
the  past  to  collect  the  mischievous  opinions 
which  time  had  consigned  to  oblivion,  and  to 
reproduce  upon  the  stage,  in  the  dress  of  nov- 
elty, the  actors  that  once  inspired  consterna- 
tion and  alarm.  They  explore  the  mysteries 
of  science,  not  to  admire  the  wisdom,  or 
adore  the  goodness  of  God — not  to  enlarge 
the  dominion  of  mankind,  to  relieve  their 
wants,  to  increase  their  comforts,  to  stimulate 
their  piety,  and  exalt  their  destiny,  but  to 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  129 

wring  from  the  secrets  of  nature,  by  hateful 
processes  of  torture,  some  dubious  confess- 
ions, that  may  signalize  themselves  as  unex- 
pected ministers  of  ill.  As  religion  is  the 
most  awful  subject  that  can  occupy  the 
thoughts  of  men,  it  is  here  that  the  encroach- 
ments of  vanity  will  be  most  daring  and  pre- 
sumptuous. Science  is  the  possession  of  but 
few,  and  he  who  ventures  upon  novelties  in 
any  of  its  departments,  can  expect  but  a  lim- 
ited glory.  Religion,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
the  property  of  the  race,  and  he  who  should 
succeed  in  confounding  its  principles,  or  extin- 
guishing its  sanctions,  would  achieve  a  con- 
quest, which,  if  the  extent  of  ruin  is  to  be  the 
measure  of  renown,  might  satisfy  the  largest 
ambition.  It  is  a  marvellous  phenomenon 
that  men  should  be  willing  to  relieve  obscuri- 
ty by  infamy ;  that  rather  than  not  be  known, 
they  will  deliberately  suppress  the  light  of 
reason,  quell  the  remonstrances  of  conscience, 
forfeit  the  approbation  of  the  wise  and  good, 
defy  the ,  Omnipotent  to  arms,  and  run   the 

risk  of  everlasting    damnation.      Yet    such 

6* 


180  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

there  are,  infatuated  men,  who  seek  for  dis- 
tinction in  unnatural  efforts  to  degrade  their 
species — who  found  a  title  to  respect,  upon 
discoveries  which  link  them  in  destiny  to  the 
brutes,  who  glory  in  their  shame.  Nothing  in 
the  majesty  of  virtue  rebukes  them,  nothing 
in  the  simplicity  of  truth  allures  them,  no- 
thing in  the  terrors  of  the  Almighty,  alarms 
them.  With  ruthless  violence  and  parricidal 
zeal,  they  attack  whatever  is  venerable,  sa- 
cred, august,  and  true.  The  sublimest  doc- 
trines of  religion,  the  dread  retributions  of 
eternity,  and  the  name  and  perfections  of 
Him  who  sits  upon  the  circle  of  the  earth, 
and  the  inhabitants  thereof  are  as  grasshop- 
pers, before  whom  the  nations  are  counted  as 
the  small  dust  of  the  balance,  are  treated  as 
materials  to  minister  to  vanity.  At  one  time, 
under  the  pretext  of  exalting  natural  relig- 
ion, the  mysteries  of  the  cross  are  disregard- 
ed, and  reason  is  professedly  exalted  only 
that  grace  may  be  really  despised.  At  an- 
other time,  the  distinctions  of  truth  and  false- 
hood are  involved  in  confusion,  and  universal 


THE     LOVE     0/     rr.  UTH.  lol 

skepticism  made  the  touchstone  of  sound 
philosophy.  And  truth,  and  duty,  and  relig- 
ion, disappear  in  the  darkness.  The  scene 
changes,  and  we  behold  open  apologists  for 
Atheism,  who  seek  to  gain  a  name  in  the 
earth  by  unblushingly  proclaiming  that  they 
can  detect  no  traces  of  wisdom  in  the  fabric 
of  the  world,  no  tokens  of  goodness  in  the 
conduct  of  Providence ;  whose  deity  is  chance, 
whose  devotion  is  sensuality,  whose  hope  is 
extinction.  But  as  these  gross  forms  of  im- 
piety and  absurdity  soon  excited  too  much 
disgust  to  flatter  the  vanity  of  their  authors, 
the  infamous  odour  they  emitted  rebuking 
the  inspection  of  curiosity,  this  miserable  am- 
bition of  distinction  was  compelled  to  resort 
to  decency,  and  assuming  the  air  of  profound 
speculation,  covered  its  enormities  under  the 
refinements  of  a  philosophy,  in  which  names, 
that  are  dear  to  the  heart,  the  names  of  God, 
of  virtue,  and  religion,  are  retained,  but  the 
things  themselves  are  exploded.  This  sys- 
tem is  exactly  adapted  to  the  ruling  passion 
of  the  vain.     Obscurity  is  its  element,  and  as 


182  THE    LOVE    OF    THUTH. 

objects  look  larger  in  a  mist,  the  reputation 
of  profound  sagacity  and  wisdom,  may  be 
cheaply  purchased  by  substituting  mystery 
for  sense,  and  dreams  for  thought,  by  drink- 
ing inspiration  from  the  clouds,  and  clothing 
oracular  responses  in  a  jargon  as  dark  and 
unintelligible  as  the  hieroglyphics  of  those 
great  exemplars  of  imposture,  the  priesthood 
of  Egypt.  Guard,  my  young  friends,  against 
vanity.  Never  let  it  be  a  question  whether 
this,  or  that  opinion,  shall  attract  attention  to 
your  persons.  Look  only  for  evidence — fol- 
low the  light — and  be  content  with  the  re- 
flection that  you  have  deserved,  whether  you 
have  gained  or  not,  the  approbation  of  your 
fellows.  Wisdom  will  eventually  be  justified 
of  all  her  children.  The  triumphs  of  vanity 
are  short — those  of  truth  everlasting. 

Closely  connected  with  vanity  is  the  ir- 
regular influence  of  .the  sense  of  shame,  in 
prompting  us  to  shrink  from  opinions  which 
may  expose  us  to  ridicule.  False  shame,  it  is 
obvious,  however,  is  not  so  fatal  to  the  inter- 
ests of  truth,  as  vanity;  since,  content  with 


THE    LOVE    OF    TliUTH.  1S3 

suppressing  unpopular  convictions,  it  makes 
no  excursions  into  the  fields  of  error.  Unam- 
bitious of  attracting  observation,  it  meditates 
no  monument  of  glory.  It  is  not  obscurity, 
but  contempt,  that  excites  its  apprehensions. 
The  sense  of  shame,  as  a  subsidiary  sanction 
of  virtue  and  propriety,  is  an  important,  per- 
haps an  indispensable  element,  in  the  econo- 
my of  human  nature.  It  is  a  protection  from 
what  is  little  in  principle,  and  mean  in  con- 
duct. But  to  exalt  the  sense  of  the  ridicu- 
lous into  a  criterion  of  truth,  to  make  it  the 
guide  of  reason  in  the  pursuits  of  philosophy, 
is  to  destroy  the  just  subordination  of  im- 
pulses and  passions  to  the  dictates  of  the  un- 
derstanding. Our  emotions  depend,  not  upon 
the  essential  qualities  of  the  objects  that  ex- 
cite them,  but  upon  the  representations  that 
are  made  to  the  mind.  The  eye  affects  the 
heart — the  aspects,  or  lights,  in  which  things 
are  contemplated,  determine  the  character 
of  the  feelings  they  produce.  If,  then,  virtue 
and  truth  are  capable  of  being  distorted  by 
the  fancy,  and  presented  under  false  appear- 


1S4  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

ances,  they  are  capable  of  being  made  the  oc- 
casions of  emotions  foreign  to  their  nature. 
It  may,  indeed,  be  conceded  that  the  sense 
of  ridicule  is  an  instinct  of  nature,  and  that 
its  appropriate  qualities  are  neither  truth,  vir- 
tue, nor  goodness,  distinctively  as  such ;  but 
as  instances  of  virtue  can  be  misrepresented 
to  the  moral  sense,  and  receive  the  censure 
which  is  due  to  vice,  so  truth  can  be  covered 
in  the  disguise  of  falsehood,  and  provoke  the 
laughter  which  is  due  to  folly.  The  intrinsic 
dignity  and  importance  of  an  object  are  no 
exemption  from  the  shafts  of  raillery.  The 
noblest  painting  may  be  seen  in  a  false  light. 
The  history  of  infidelity  is  fraught  with  mel- 
ancholy proof,  that  no  subjects  are  too  sub- 
lime for  levity,  too  sacred  for  caricature,  or 
too  solemn  for  a  jest.  Could  religion  always 
be  presented  in  its  true  colours — and  this  is 
the  truth  which  it  is  most  important  to  guard 
— ^it  would  have  nothing  to  fear  from  the 
power  of  ridicule.  But  when  piety  is  de- 
nounced as  superstition,  humility  reproached 
as  meanness,  faith  derided  as  enthusiasm,  firm- 


THE    LOVE    OF    TKUTH.  136 

ness  despised  as  obstinacy,  and  joy  in  the 
Holy  Ghost  insulted  as  the  offspring  of  spirit- 
ual pride,  religion  may  suffer  from  the  con- 
tempt due  only  to  the  gross  and  disgusting 
pictures  which  sophists  and  buffoons  have 
drawn  of  it.  There  are  a  thousand  tricks  by 
which  wit  and  humour  may  pervert  the  mys- 
teries of  the  cross,  and  connect  them  with  low 
and  ridiculous  associations,  with  which  they 
have  no  natural  affinity.  Through  the  fatal 
imposture  of  words,  by  mean  and  vulgar  an- 
alogies, the  eccentricities  of  good  men  may 
be  artfully  exaggerated,  their  ignorance  and 
frailties  conspicuously  set  off,  and  true  piety 
dexterously  confounded  with  hypocrisy  and 
fraud.  In  every  age  skeptics  have  relied 
more  upon  the  power  of  sarcasm,  than  upon 
the  power  of  argument.  The  enemies  of 
Christianity,  as  Dr.  Paley  justly  remarks, 
have  pursued  her  with  poisoned  weapons.  A 
sophism  may  be  detected,  but  who  can  refute 
a  sneer.  When  infidelity  ceased  to  be  con- 
fined to  the  circles  of  philosophers,  and  be- 
gan to  court  the  approbation  of  the  crowd, 


136  THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH. 

it  abandoned  whatever  dignity  and  elegance 
it  formerly  possessed,  and  descended  to  the 
lowest  forms  of  buffoonery.  It  dropped  the 
mask  of  the  sage,  assumed  the  character  of 
the  harlequin,  relinquished  argument,  and  be- 
took itself  to  ribaldry.  The  design  of  the 
French  philosophers  was  not  to  discuss  the 
merits  of  Christianity,  but  to  present  it  in 
false  lights,  to  exhibit  it  in  uncouth  and  re- 
volting attitudes,  to  attach  disgusting  or  ridi- 
culous associations  with  its  peculiar  doctrines, 
and  to  cover  it  with  the  contempt  which  was 
due  only  to  the  odious  pictures  themselves  had 
drawn.  It  has  been  the  trick  of  the  profane, 
in  every  age,  to  deride  the  pretensions  to 
spiritual  religion,  and  it  requires  no  ordinary 
degree  of  courage,  to  resist  the  contempt  to 
which  the  profession  of  vital  religion  is  ex- 
posed in  the  world.  When  it  is  industrious- 
ly connected  with  ideas  of  littleness,  mean- 
ness, and  fanaticism,  represented  as  the  prop- 
erty of  narrow  spirits  and  of  coward  hearts, 
the  temptation  is  very  strong  to  be  ashamed 
of  its  doctrines,  its  promises,  and  its  hopes. 


THE    LOVE    OP    TRUTH.  137 

Such  is  the  depravity  of  men,  that  singular 
virtue  is  made  the  object  of  reproach,  while 
singular  vice,  or  singular  error,  may  be  the 
means  of  distinction.  Hence  our  Saviour 
brings  the  awful  sanctions  of  eternity  to  bear 
upon  those  who  are  in  danger  of  surrender- 
ing truth  to  a  jest — their  honest  opinions  to 
raillery  and  banter.  He  points  to  a  shame 
with  which  sin  shall  be  finally  accompanied, 
more  tremendous  and  appalling  than  all  the 
reproaches  of  men — an  everlasting  contempt 
which  shall  astonish  and  overwhelm  the  guil- 
ty— ^when  God  shall  laugh  at  his  calamity, 
and  mock  when  his  fear  cometh.  "Whoso- 
ever is  ashamed  of  me,  and  of  my  words,  of 
him  also  shall  the  Son  of  man  be  ashamed 
when  he  comes  in  the  glory  of  the  Father 
with  the  holy  angels." 

We  should  particularly  guard  against  the 
irregular  influence  of  shame,  because  its  op- 
erations do  not  always  stop  at  the  suppression 
or  concealment  of  obnoxious  opinions.  The 
rebukes  of  conscience  must  be  silenced  by 
pleas,  and  the  self-respect  we  have  forfeited 


188  THE    LOVE     OF    TRUTH. 


must  be  regained  by  evasions.  He  who  is 
ashamed  of  the  truth  will  soon  proceed  to 
condemn  it.  He  who  is  afraid  to  profess 
Christ  will  soon  be  tempted  to  deny  him. 
He  that  is  not  prepared  to  suffer  will  soon  be 
induced  to  betray.  That  character  alone  is 
great  in  which  the  love  of  truth  is  supreme, 
habitually  superior  to  the  clamours  of  preju- 
dice, the  surmises  of  ignorance,  and  the  jeers 
of  contempt. 

I  have  now  described  briefly  and  rapidly 
the  characteristics  of  the  love  of  truth,  which 
was  previously  evinced  to  be  a  duty,  and 
pointed  out  some  of  the  dangers  to  which  we 
are  exposed,  of  foregoing  its  claims.  My  de- 
sign has  been  to  commend  this  spirit  to  your 
hearts.  It  is  the  foundation  of  all  solid  ex- 
cellence. It  gives  stability  to  character,  and 
distinguishes  firmness  from  obstinacy.  It 
makes  the  man  of  principle.  You  may  be 
distinguished  in  the  world  without  it ;  but  you 
never  can  have  the  approbation  of  your  own 
hearts,  or  the  smile  of  God.  You  never  can 
perfect  and  adorn  your  natures.     Learn  to  in- 


THE    LOVE    OF    TRUTH.  139 

vestigate,  to  examine,  to  try  the  principles 
that  are  proposed  to  you,  and  make  it  a  fixed 
rule  to  regulate  your  assent  by  no  authority 
but  that  of  evidence.  Never  be  in  love  with 
opinions  upon  any  foreign  or  adventitious 
grounds;  cleave  to  them  only  because  they 
are  the  truth.  Hear  instruction,  and  be  wise, 
and  refuse  it  not.  "Blessed,"  says  Divine 
Wisdom,  "is  the  man  that  heareth  me,  watch- 
ing daily  at  my  gates,  waiting  at  the  posts  of 
my  doors.  For  whoso  findeth  me,  findeth 
life,  and  shall  obtain  favour  of  the  Lord.  But 
he  that  sinneth  against  me  wrongeth  his  own 
soul ;  all  they  that  hate  me  love  death." 


<^  i  It  r  ^  r  i  1 1 . 

"Finally,  brethren,  wliatsoever  things  are  true — think  on 
these  things." — Philippians,  iv.  8. 

■f^Tn^,  ttt       Truth  mav  be   considered   in 
DISC.  IV.  -.     ,. 

two  leading  aspects,  either  as 

having  reference  to  the  correspondence  of 
our  convictions  with  the  reality  of  things, 
which  may  be  called  speculative  truth,  or 
truth  of  opinion ;  or  as  having  reference  to  the 
correspondence  of  our  expressions  with  the 
reality  of  our  convictions,  which,  in  contra- 
distinction from  the  former,  may  be  called 
practical  truth,  or  truth  of  life  and  conduct. 
The  one  protects  our  minds  from  imposition 
and  error,  the  other  protects  our  lips  from 
treachery  and  falsehood.  The  one  keeps  us 
from  being  deceived,  the  other  from  deceiv- 
ing. The  love  of  truth,  as  a  general  habit, 
equally  includes  them  both ;  it  makes  us  cau- 


SINCERITY.  *  141 

tious,  discriminating  and  attentive  to  evi- 
dence, in  the  process  by  which  our  opinions 
are  formed,  and  exact,  prudent  and  scrupu- 
lous in  the  testimony  by  which  we  communi- 
cate our  judgments  to  others.  The  love  of 
truth,  as  a  general  habit,  and  as  applying  to 
our  speculative  inquiries,  has  already  been 
sufficiently  considered.  It  remains  now  to 
discuss  the  second  great  branch  of  the  sub- 
ject, practical  truth,  or  truth  of  life  and  con- 
duct. 

This  seems  to  me  to  include  three  things. 
First,  sincerity^  which  obtains  whenever  the 
signs,  whatever  they  may  be,  by  which  we  in- 
tentionally communicate  ideas,  exactly  repre- 
sent the  state  of  our  own  convictions.  The 
standard  of  this  species  of  truth  is  a  man's 
own  thoughts.  As  the  design  of  speech  is 
not  directly  and  immediately  to  express  the 
nature  and  properties  of  things,  but  our  own 
conceptions  in  regard  to  them,  he  that  utters 
what  he  thinks,  is  not  wanting  in  veracity, 
however  his  thoughts  may  fail  to  correspond 
to   the    realities    themselves.     Distinguished 


142  SINCERITY. 

casuists  have,  accordingly,  defined  veracity  to 
be  a  moral  virtue,  inclining  men  to  represent 
phenomena  according  to  their  own  apprehen- 
sions.* The  matter  of  it  they  make  twofold, 
immediate  and  remote  ;f  the  immediate  con- 
sisting in  the  correspondence  of  the  statement 
with  the  conviction  of  the  speaker,  the  re- 
mote in  the  correspondence  of  the  conviction 
to  the  thing  itself     The  concurrence  of  the 

*  Thomas  Aquinas's  Summa.  2.  2.  quest.  110,  art.  1.  Dens.  Theol., 
Mor.  and  Dog.,  vol.  iv.  p.  306.     De  Veritate. 

f  The  distinction  of  Aquinas  is  into  matter  and  form.  The 
matter  of  a  proposition  being  its  truth  or  falsehood  abstractly 
considered;  the  form,  its  truth  or  falsehood  according  to  the  be- 
lief of  the  speaker. 

A  proposition  may,  obviously,  be  contemplated  in  two  lights, 
either  abstractly  as  a  naked  affirmation  or  denial,  and  then  the 
matter  of  it  is  the  thing,  whatever  it  may  be,  which  is  asserted 
or  denied ;  or  relatively,  according  to  the  purpose  and  intention 
of  the  speaker,  and  then  the  matter  of  it  is  the  apprehension  of 
his  own  mind ;  it  affirms  or  denies,  not  what  is,  except  per  acci- 
dens,  but  what  he  believes.  When  the  question  is  in  reference  to 
the  truth  of  the  thing,  the  matter,  in  the  first  aspect,  is  the 
point  of  inquiry ;  when  the  question  is  in  reference  to  the  sin- 
cerity of  the  speaker,  the  matter,  in  the  second,  is  all  that  is 
important.  This  is,  indeed,  the  sole  matter  of  veracity,  but  not 
the  sole  matter  of  the  proposition.  Hence,  the  distinction  into 
proximate  and  remote  is  a  convenient  one,  if  it  be  borne  in  mind 
that  the  proximate  is  the  essence  of  veracity,  as  it  respects  the 
speaker ;  the  remote,  of  the  proposition  abstractly  considered  as 
true  or  false.  The  most  common  distinction,  however,  is  into 
matter  and  form ;  the  matter  having  reference  to  the  proposi- 
tion itself,  the  form  to  the  belief  of  the  speaker. 


SINCERITY.  143 

two  is  a  safeguard  against  all  deception  from 
testimony.  It  is  then  perfect  and  complete. 
With  this  double  distinction  of  the  matter  of 
veracity,  it  is  easily  conceivable  that  a  man  may 
veraciously  utter  what  is  false,  and  falsely 
utter  what  is  true.  If  he  affirms  that  to  be 
true  which  he  believes  to  be  false,  or  affirms 
that  to  be  false  which  he  believes  to  be  true, 
though  in  each  case  his  belief  may  be  er- 
roneous, and  things  be  exactly  as  he  repre- 
sents them,  he  is  guilty  of  deceit — he  has 
spoken  against  his  mind — the  proximate  or 
immediate  matter  of  veracity  is  wanting. 
This  proximate  matter  is  what  modern  writers 
have  denominated  moral,  and  the  remote  what 
they  have  denominated,  physical  or  logical 
truth.  It  is  evident  that  in  the  former  the 
essence  of  sincerity  consists,  and  upon  the 
latter  the  value  of  testimony,  as  an  independ- 
ent source  of  knowledge,  depends.  "  If  there 
be  an  agreement,"  says  South,*  who,  in  his 
definition  of  a  lie,  has  followed  Augustine, 
*' if  there  be  an  agreement  between  our  words 

*  Sermon  on  Falsehood,  Prov.  xii.  82. 


144  SINCERITY. 

and  our  thoughts,  we  do  not  speak  falsely, 
though  it  sometimes  so  falls  out,  that  our 
words  agree  not  with  the  things  themselves ; 
upon  which  account,  though  in  so  speaking, 
we  offend  indeed  against  truth ;  yet  we  offend 
not  properly  by  falsehood,  which  is  a  speak- 
ing against  our  thoughts;  but  by  rashness, 
which  is  affirming  or  denying,  before  we 
have  sufficiently  informed  ourselves  of  the 
real  and  true  estate  of  those  things  whereof 
we  affirm  or  deny."  It  is  certainly  incum- 
bent upon  men  to  guard  against  imposture 
and  error,  and  where  their  judgments  have 
been  hastily  formed,  without  due  attention  to 
the  evidence  within  their  reach,  or  under  the 
influence  of  prejudice  and  passion,  their  mis- 
takes are  not  without  guilt.  They  sin  against 
the  truth  in  the  absence  of  that  spirit  of  in- 
difference, impartiality  and  candid  inquiry  in 
which  the  love  of  it  consists,  though  they  are 
not  chargeable  with  insincerity  or  deceit  in 
their  communications  to  others.  The  differ- 
ence betwixt  a  mistake  and  a  lie  is,  that  in 
the  one  case  the  speaker  himself  is  deceived, 


SINCERITY.  145 

in  the  other  he  proposes  to  deceive  others. 
A  mistake  always,  a  lie  never,  has  the  prox- 
imate matter  of  veracity. 

The  second  branch  of  practical  truth  re- 
quires that  our  actions  correspond  with  our 
professions.  This  is  called  faithfulness^  and 
consists  in  fulfilling  the  engagements  and 
meeting  the  expectations  which  we  have 
knowingly  and  voluntarily  excited.  This  sub- 
ject is  generally  discussed  under  the  head  of 
veracity ;  but  faithfulness  is  evidently  a  mixed 
virtue,  combining  the  elements  of  justice  and 
of  truth.  A  promise  or  a  contract  creates  a 
right  in  another  party — and  the  obligation  to 
fulfil  it  arises  accordingly,  not  simply  from 
the  general  obligation  of  veracity,  but  from 
the  specific  obligation,  which  corresponds 
to  my  neighbour's  right.  Hence,  breach  of 
promise  is  something  more  than  a  lie,  it  is  a 
fraud — it  cheats  a  man  of  his  own. 

The  third  thing  involved  in  practical 
truth,  is  consistency  or  harmony  of  character. 
Truth  is  one,  and  the  life  of  the  good  man 
must  be  a  reflection  of  its  unity.     Fluctua- 


146  SINOEKITY. 

tions  and  fickleness  of  opinion^  or  of  conduct, 
are  certain  indications  of  gross  dishonesty  of 
heart,  or  of  gross  imbecility  of  understanding. 
When  a  man  often  shifts  his  principles,  it 
is  not  truth,  but  imagined  interest  that  he 
stands  on ;  and  he  who  is  under  the  frequent 
necessity,  as  the  phrase  goes,  of  ^'  defining  his 
jposition^^''  has  no  position  that  is  worth  defin- 
ing, and  is  fit  for  no  position  of  any  moment. 

These  three,  sincerity,  faithfulness,  and 
consistency,  comprise  the  whole  duty  of  prac- 
tical veracity.  The  opposite  of  the  first  is 
deceit,  in  its  protean  shapes  of  lying,  hypoc- 
risy and  flattery ;  the  opposite  of  the  second 
is  fraud,  and  the  opposite  of  the  third  is  in- 
constancy or  fickleness. 

Before  proceeding  to  a  more  detailed  dis- 
cussion of  these  subjects,  it  may  be  well  to 
adjust  a  preliminary  question  in  reference  to 
the  grounds  of  the  obligation  of  veracity. 
Paley  resolves  them  into  contract.*  *'  A  lie," 
says  he,  "is  a  breach  of  promise:  for  whoever 
seriously  addresses  his  discourse  to  another, 

*  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy.— Book  iii.  Chap.  6. 


SINCERITY.  147 

tacitly  promises  to  speak  the  truth,  because 
he  knows  that  the  truth  is  expected."  To  say 
nothing  of  the  fact  that  a  promise  pre-sup- 
poses  the  veracity  of  the  promiser  as  the 
measure  of  its  engagement,  that  it  is  nothing 
and  can  be  nothing  except  on  the  supposition 
that  the  promiser  really  conveys  the  purpose 
of  his  mind,  the  theory  labours  under  another 
difficulty.  It  is  not  enough  to  constitute  a 
promise  that  expectations  are  entertained — 
they  must  be  knowingly  and  voluntarily  ex- 
cited by  ourselves.  It  is  nothing  worth, 
therefore,  to  affirm  that  because  truth  is  ex- 
pected when  we  seriously  address  our  dis- 
course to  another,  therefore  we  have  tacitly 
promised  to  speak  it,  unless  it  can  be  shown 
that  this  expectation  has  been  intentionally 
produced  by  our  agency.  We  are  not  bound 
by  any  other  expectations  of  men,  but  those 
which  we  have  authorized.  It  is  idle,  there- 
fore, to  pretend  to  a  contract  in  the  case.  If 
Dr.  Paley  had  pushed  his  inquiries  a  little 
further,  he  might  have  accounted  for  this  ex- 
pectation, which  certainly   exists,  independ- 


148  SINCERITY. 

ently  of  a  promise,  upon  principles  firmer  and 
surer  than  any  he  has  admitted  in  the  struc- 
ture of  his  philosophy.  He  might  have  seen 
in  it  the  language  of  our  nature  proclaiming 
the  will  of  our  nature's  God.  It  is  surprising 
to  what  an  extent  this  superficial  theory  of 
contract  has  found  advocates  among  divines 
and  moralists.  "  Upon  the  principles  of  nat- 
ural reason,"  says  South,  in  a  passage  of* 
which  the  extract  from  Paley  may  be  regard- 
ed as  an  abridgment,  "the  unlawfulness  of 
lying  is  grounded  upon  this,  that  a  lie  is 
properly  a  sort  or  species  of  injustice,  and  a 
violation  of  the  right  of  that  person  to  whom 
the  false  speech  is  directed ;  for  all  speaking, 
or  signification  of  one's  mind,  implies,  in  the 
nature  of  it,  an  act  or  address  of  one  man 
to  another;  it  being  evident  that  no  man, 
though  he  does  speak  false,  can  be  said  to  lie 
to  himself  Now,  to  show  what  this  right  is, 
we  must  know  that  in  the  beginnings  and 
first  establishments  of  speech,  there  was  an 
implicit  compact  amongst  men,  founded  upon 
common  use  and  consent,  that  such  and  such 


SINCERITY.  149 

words  or  voices,  actions  or  gestures,  should  be 
means  or  signs,  whereby  they  would  express 
or  CQuvey  their  thoughts  one  to  another; 
and  that  men  should  be  obliged  to  use  them 
for  that  purpose ;  forasmuch  as  without  such 
an  obligation,  those  signs  could  not  be  effect- 
ual for  such  an  end.  From  which  compact, 
there  arising  an  obligation  upon  every  one 
so  to  convey  his  meaning,  there  accrues  also 
a  right  to  every  one,  by  the  same  signs  to 
judge  of  the  sense  or  meaning  of  the  per- 
son so  obliged  to  express  himself;  and  con- 
sequently if  these  signs  are  applied  and  used 
by  him,  so  as  not  to  signify  his  meaning,  the 
right  of  the  person,  to  whom  he  was  oblig- 
ed so  to  have  done,  is  hereby  violated,  and 
the  man,  by  being  deceived  and  kept  ignorant 
of  his  neighbour's  meaning,  where  he  ought 
to  have  known  it,  is  so  far  deprived  of  the 
benefit  of  any  intercourse  or  converse  with 
him." 

If  men  once  existed  in  a  state  of  solitary 
independence,  as  destitute  of  language  as 
of  society,  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  how 


150  siNCEKirv. 

they  could  have  established  a  mutual  un- 
derstanding and  concerted  the  signs  which 
were  subsequently  to  be  employed  as  tte  ve- 
hicles of  thought.  There  must  have  been 
some  mode  of  communication,  or  the  conven- 
tion in  question  becomes  utterly  impracti- 
cable. Whatever  that  mode  might  be,  the 
obligation  of  veracity  applied  to  it,  in  order 
that  it  might  be  effectual,  and  an  arrange- 
ment which  presupposes,  cannot  be  the 
source  of  a  duty.  Men  were  either  bound 
to  represent  their  thoughts  honestly  to  each 
other,  when  they  came  together  to  frame  an 
artificial  language,  or  they  were  not.  If  they 
were  previously  bound,  the  obligation  can- 
not spring  from  any  agreement  entered  into 
at  the  time — if  they  were  not,  there  is  no 
security  that  the  terms  of  the  agreement 
express  the  intentions  of  the  parties,  and  no 
evidence,  accordingly,  that  any  real  promise 
was  made.  Such  are  the  inconsistencies  inci- 
dent to  all  explanations  of  the  origin  of 
society  and  language,  which  overlook  the 
historical    facts    of   the    Bible.       Man    was 


SINCERITY.  1^1 

evidently  created  a  social  being  and  with  the 
gift  of  speech.  He  was  as  much  adapted, 
when  he  came  from  the  hands  of  God,  to 
intercourse  with  his  fellows  by  the  possession 
of  language,  as  by  the  possession  of  those  in- 
stincts, passions  and  affections,  which  make 
the  home,  the  family  and  the  State,  indis- 
pensable to  his  progress  and  developement. 
He  was  born  in  society  and  for  society ;  it 
is  not  a  condition  which  he  has  voluntarily 
selected  from  a  calculation  of  its  conveniences 
and  comforts ;  it  is  the  condition  in  which 
God  has  placed  him,  and  from  which  he  can- 
not be  divorced.  Language  is  arbitrary  in 
the  sense  that  there  is,  except  to  a  very  lim- 
ited extent,  no  natural  analogy  between 
sounds  and  the  thoughts  they  represent;  it 
is  not  arbitrary  in  the  sense  that  it  is  purely 
the  product  of  the  human  will ;  it  is  not  an 
invention,  but  a  faculty,  and,  like  all  other 
faculties,  capable  of  improvement  or  abuse. 

The  account  which  Dr.  Whewell  gives  in 
his  Elements  of  Morality,^  of  the  obligation 

*  Elements  of  Morality,  book  iii.,  chap.  16,  §  386. 


152  SINCEllITY. 

of  veracity,  though  it  is  free  from  the  pa- 
ralogisms of  Paley  and  South,  and  the  the- 
ory of  contract,  is  not  unincumbered  with 
difi&culties  of  its  own.  Among  the  springs 
of  action  he  enumerates  the  need  of  a  mu- 
tual understanding  among  men — speaks  of 
this  as  a  need  rather  than  a  desire,  it  being 
"  rather  a  necessity  of  man's  condition  than 
an  object  of  his  conscious  desire."  "  We 
see  this  necessity,"  he  continues,  "even  in 
animals,  especially  in  those  which  are  gre- 
garious. In  their  associated  condition,  they 
derive  help  and  advantage  from  one  an- 
other ;  and  many  of  them,  especially  those 
that  live,  travel,  or  hunt  in  companies,  are 
seen  to  reckon  upon  each  others'  actions  with 
great  precision  and  confidence.  In  societies 
of  men,  this  mutual  aid  and  reliance  are  no 
less  necessary  than  among  beavers  or  bees. 
But  in  man,  this  aid  and  reliance  are  not 
the  work  of  mere  instinct.  There  must  be 
a  mutual  understanding,  by  which  men  learn 
to  anticipate  and  to-  depend  upon  the  actions 
of  each  other.     This   mutual   understanding 


SINCERITY.  158 

presupposes  that  man  has  the  power  of  de- 
termining his  future  actions,  and  that  he  has 
the  power  of  making  other  men  aware  of 
his  determination.  It  presupposes  purpose 
as  its  matter,  and  language  as  its  instrument." 
It  is  clear  that  Dr.  Whewell  had  princi- 
pally in  view  promises  and  contracts,  those 
purposes  of  our  own  in  regard  to  the  future, 
which  have  given  rise  to  expectations  in 
others,  in  conformity  with  which  they  have 
adjusted  their  plans  and  regulated  their  con- 
duct. Mutual  understanding  is  a  necessity 
only  where  deceit  is  an  injury.  There  are 
cases  of  falsehood,  in  which  it  would  be 
hard  to  prove  that  any  shock  is  given  to 
society,  provided  it  were  understood  that 
the  prevarication,  in  these  cases,  was  not  in- 
consistent with  the  strictest  integrity,  where 
confidence  was  really  important.  Upon  Dr. 
Whewell's  principles,  the  law  of  veracity  is 
not  universal,  embracing  every  instance  and 
form  in  which  one  man  communicates  ideas 
to  another ;  it  extends  only  to  those  contin- 
gencies   in   which    we    have    entered    into 

7* 


t^  SINCERITY. 

virtual  engagements.  He  could  convict  jest- 
ing and  foolish  talking  of  guilt  only  on  the 
ground,  that  they  imperceptibly  disturb  our 
love  of  truth  and  undermine  the  security  of  our 
faithfulness,  and  gradually  introduce  us  into 
fraud  and  treachery.  They  are  not  wrong, 
upon  his  hypothesis,  essentially  and  inher- 
ently, but  only  indirectly  and  contingently. 

In  the  next  place,  it  is  not  explained  how 
this  need  of  mutual   understanding  operates 
as   a   spring   of  action.     It  is  denied  to  be 
a   conscious  desire — it   is   denied   to   be   an 
instinct — by   which,  I   suppose,  he   means  a 
blind   craving   of  our   nature.      What    then 
is  it?     If  it  expresses  simply  a  necessity  of 
our   condition   as   social,  we  are  either  con- 
scious  of  this  necessity,  or  we   are  not.     If 
we   are   not  conscious  of  it,  it  can  have  no 
possible   influence   upon   us.     It   will   be  to 
us  as  though  it  existed  not.     If  we  are  con- 
scious of  it,  then  it  must  produce  desire,  and 
that  desire  must  lead  to  expedients  to  grat- 
ify it.     Speaking  the  truth,  as  the  means  of 
satisfying  this  craving  of  our  nature,  would 


SINCERITY.  106 

consequently  be  the  suggestion  of  reason. 
This,  I  think,  is  what  the  learned  author 
meant,  although  some  expressions  he  has 
used  are  hardly  reconcilable  with  it.  If  so, 
the  obligation  of  veracity  is  a  deduction  of 
the  understanding  from  the  circumstances 
in  which  we  are  placed.  The  end  to  be 
gained  is  first  distinctly  suggested  by  a 
sense  of  need,  and  veracity  is  enforced  as 
the  only  conceivable  expedient  by  which  it 
can  be  accomplished.  Plence  the  law  of 
truth  is  not  a  primary  and  fundamental  da- 
tum of  consciousness,  but  a  secondary  and 
subordinate  principle,  which  requires  some 
knowledge  of  our  social  relations  in  order 
to  its  developement.  The  statement  of  these 
difficulties  is  a  sufficient  refutation  of  the 
hypothesis. 

The  r^al  ground  upon  which  the  obliga- 
tion of  this,  as  ultimately  the  obligation  of 
every  other  duty,  must  be  made  to  rest,  is 
the  will  of  God,  as  expressed  in  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  human  mind.  Truth  is  natural. 
There  are  two  principles,  or  laws,  impresse(i 


156  SINCERITV. 

upon  every  man,  by  which  he  is  adapted  to 
social  intercourse,  and  which  operate  inde- 
pendently of  any  consciousness,  on  his  part, 
of  their  subserviency  to  the  interests  of 
society,  and  which  manifest  themselves  in 
the  form  of  dispositions^  one  prompting  him 
to  speak  the  truth  himself,  and  the  other  to 
believe  that  others  speak  it.  No  man  ever 
tells  a  lie  without  a  certain  degree  of  vio- 
lence to  his  nature.  Motives  must  inter- 
vene, of  fear,  or  hope,  or  vanity,  or  shame 
— temptations  J  as  in  the  case  of  all  other 
vices,  must  take  place,  in  order  that  the 
contradiction  to  our  nature  and  the  whole 
current  of  our  thoughts  or  feelings,  involved 
in  a  falsehood,  may  obtain.  It  is  not  the 
spontaneous  native  offspring  of  the  soul — 
it  is  the  creature  of  passion  and  of  lust.  It 
is  in  consequence  of  this  constitution  of  the 
mind,  with  reference  to  truth  and  social  in- 
tercourse, that  the  expectation  of  which  Dr. 
Paley  speaks,  as  always  existing  when  we 
seriously  address  our  discourse  to  another, 
springs  up  in  the  breast.     This  expectation 


SINCERITY.  157 

is  only  the  manifestation  of  our  natural  ten- 
dency to  speak  the  truth  and  to  credit  the 
statements  of  others.  'V\nien  we  look  at  our- 
selves, we  see  that  God  has  impressed  upon 
our  souls  the  law  of  truth.  We  see  that  he 
has  fitted  us  to  trust,  at  the  same  time,  in 
others ;  and  though  both  dispositions  are 
indulged  long  antecedently  to  any  knowl- 
edge of  the  important  bearing  of  such  ele- 
ments of  our  being  upon  the  interests  of 
society,  yet  the  subsequent  developement  of 
these  relations  strengthens  our  attachment 
to  truth  and  enlarges  our  views  of  the  wis- 
dom of  God.  The  author  of  our  nature 
has  made  provision  for  a  mutual  understand- 
ing among  men,  and  not  left  them,  under  the 
influence  of  a  blind  craving,  to  make  pro- 
vision for  themselves.  Our  social  affections 
might  just  as  reasonably  be  ascribed  to  a 
vague  desire  of  society,  prompting  to  the 
invention  of  expedients  for  its  indulgence, 
as  our  disposition  to  speak  the  truth,  to  a 
vague  craving  for  the  interchange  of  thought. 
To  those,  therefore,  who  would  ask,  Why  am 


168  SINCERITY. 

I  bound  to  speak  the  truth?  I  would 
briefly  answer,  because  it  is  the  law  of  my 
nature;  it  is  a  fundamental  datum  of  con- 
science ;  a  command  of  God  impressed  upon 
the  moral  structure  of  the  soul.  It  can  be 
resolved  into  no  higher  principle — ^it  is 
simple,  elementary,  ultimate.  In  this  view 
of  the  case,  it  deserves  further  to  be  re- 
marked, that  the  obligation  is  universal, 
and  not  restricted  to  promises  or  contracts. 
It  is  not  only  natural  to  fulfil  the  expect- 
ations we  knowingly  and  voluntarily  excite, 
but  it  is  equally  natural,  that  in  the  use  of 
signs  to  communicate  ideas,  we  should  fairly 
and  honestly  represent  the  thoughts  of  our 
own  minds.  In  every  case,  nature  prompts 
us  to  speak  and  expect  the  truth,  and  it  is 
not  until  experience  has  taught  us  that  our 
confidence  is  often  abused  that  we  learn  to 
limit  our  credulity,  and  even  then,  "not- 
withstanding the  lessons  of  caution  commu- 
nicated to  us  by  experience,  there  is  scarcely 
a  man  to  be  found,"  as  Dr.  Reid  has  properly 
remarked,  "  who  is  not  more  credulous  than 


SINCERITY.  159 

he  ought  to  be,  and  who  does  not,  upon 
many  occasions  give  credit  to  tales  which  not 
only  turn  out  to  be  perfectly  false,  but  which 
a  very  moderate  degree  of  reflection  and  at- 
.tention  might  have  taught  him  could  not 
well  be  true.  The  natural  disposition  is 
always  to  believe.  It  is  acquired  wisdom 
and  experience  alone  that  teach  incredulity, 
and  they  very  seldom  teach  it  enough." 

Having  nov»^  explained  the  ground  of  the 
obligation  of  veracity,  I  proceed  to  con- 
sider the  duties  which  are  involved  in  the 
general  law  of  sincerity. 

This  law  is,  that  the  signs,  whatever  they 
may  be,  by  which  y^e  intentionally  commu- 
nicate ideas,  should  correspond  as  exactly 
as  possible  with  the  thoughts  they  are  em- 
ployed to  represent. 

1.  The  first  thing  here  to  be  noted  is, 
that  truth  is  not  to  be  restricted  to  speech. 
Language  is  not  the  only  vehicle  of  thought. 
A  greater  prominence  is  given  to  it  than  to 
any  other  sign,  because  it  is  the  most  com- 
mon and  important  instrument  of  social  com- 


160  SINCERITY. 

munication.  But  the  same  rule  of  sincerity 
which  is  to  regulate  the  use  of  it,  applies  to 
all  the  media  by  which  we  conscicusly  pro- 
duce impressions  upon  the  minds  of  others. 
Augustin  defines  a  lie  to  be  the  false  signi- 
fication of  a  word  for  the  purpose  of  deceit, 
and  intimates  that  by  the  term  word^  he 
means  any  and  every  significant  sign,  whether 
spoken  or  written,  whether  natural  or  arti- 
ficial— gestures,  actions,  looks,  or  ejaculations. 
It  may  be  also  added,  that  the  absence  of 
any  signs,  or  the  omission  to  use  them,  may 
have  the  efi'ect  of  suggesting  thoughts,  and 
when  we  neglect  them  from  this  consider- 
ation, we  are  responsible  for  the  effect  pro- 
duced. A  lie,  then,  is  compendiously  "  any 
false  signification,  knowingly  and  voluntarily 
used,"  no  matter  what  may  be  the  instru- 
ments employed  for  the  purpose.  He  who 
responds  to  the  question  of  a  traveller  con- 
cerning the  road  by  pointing  in  a  wrong 
direction,  who  nods  to  a  proposal  which  he 
does  not  mean  to  accept,  who  omits  in  a 
narrative   a   circumstance  without   which  an 


siNCEKirr.  161 

erroneous  judgment  cannot  but  be  formed 
in  the  case,  or  so  arranges  his  facts  as  to 
lead  naturally-  and  justly  to  inferences  that 
are  false ;  he  who  in  these,  or  in  any  other 
ways,  consciously  misleads  his  neighbour,  is 
as  really  wanting  in  sincerity  and  as  truly 
guilty  of  a  lie  as  if  he  had  deceived  by 
words.  Appearances  kept  up  for  the  pur- 
pose of  deceiving,  such  as  a  splendid  equip- 
age by  one  whose  income  is  inadequate  to 
the  expense ;  hurry  and  bustle  in  a  phy- 
sician without  patients ;  a  multitude  of  pa- 
pers by  a  lawyer  without  briefs  ;  and  all  sim- 
ilar tricks  for  effect,  belong  to  this  species  of 
dissembling.  South  thinks  that  though  the 
principle  is  the  same  in  each  case,  the  term 
lie  is  distinctly  applied  to  deception  by  words, 
and  simulation  or  hypocrisy  to  deception  by 
gestures,  actions,  or  behaviour.  I  appre- 
hend, however,  that  hypocrisy,  according  to 
general  usage,  denotes  only  a  particular 
species  of  this  deception.  It  refers  to 
the  personation  of  a  character  that  does 
not  belong  to  us.     We  are  hypocrites  only 


162  SINCERITY. 

as  we    pretend    to  be   that  which   we  are 
not. 

2.  The  application  of  the  law,  in  the  case 
of  parables,  fictions,  tales  and  figurative  lan- 
guage, such  as  hyperbole  and  irony,  is  not 
to  the  details  and  subordinate  statements, 
but  to  the  moral,  which,  as  a  whole,  they  are 
intended  to  illustrate.  Dr.  Paley  has  strange- 
ly enumerated  these  under  the  head  of  false- 
hoods^ which  are  not  lies,  attaching  them 
to  the  same  class  with  the  disingenuous 
assertions  of  an  advocate  in  pleading  a 
cause,  or  with  a  servant's  denial  of  his  mas- 
ter. But  in  these  cases  there  is  evidently, 
in  no  proper  sense,  any  falsehood  at  all. 
The  fable,  parable,  or  tale,  taken  as  a  whole, 
may  be  and  is  regarded  as  a  species  of 
proposition,  in  which  the  lesson  to  be  in- 
culcated is  all  that  is  strictly  affirmed.  The 
rest  is  drapery,  mere  conceptions  of  the  im- 
agination, intended  to  illustrate  and  place 
in  commanding  lights,  the  ultimate  truth  to 
be  taught.  They  are  not  proposed  as  facts, 
but  rather   as  the  signs  and  representatives 


SINCERITY.  163 

of  wliat  might  be  facts.  They  are,  in  other 
words,  only  the  language  in  which  the 
proposition  is  enounced.  When  a  man  hon- 
estly believes  the  moral  of  his  tale,  what- 
ever may  be  its  ingredients  and  subordinate 
circumstances,  he  is  not  wanting  in  sincerity. 
The  pictures  of  his  fancy  are  not  the  things 
which  he  affirms.  If,  however,  he  should 
invent  a  story  to  enforce  a  proposition  which 
he  believes  to  be  false,  he  would  then  vio- 
late the  obligation  of  veracity.  It  is  only 
where  the  end  aimed  at  is  contradictory  to 
a  man's  own  convictions  that  these  contriv- 
ances of  the  imagination  possess  either  the 
form  or  matter  of  falsehood.  Of  course,  if 
a  man  should  assert  the  details  of  a  fable, 
parable,  or  fiction,  as  facts^  without  believing 
them  himself,  he  would  be  justly  subject 
to  the  imputation  of  lying,  as  he  would  be 
equally  subject,  if  he  believed  them,  to  the 
imputation  of  insanity. 

3.  There  is  a  form  of  simulation  which  is 
resorted  to  for  the  purpose  of  exciting  curi- 
osity,   stimulating    attention,    conveying    in- 


164  S  I  N  C  K  li  I  T  Y  . 

struction,  or  exploring  and  bringing  to  light 
what  otherwise  might  not  be  known.  It  is  a 
species  of  interrogatory  by  action.  It  has 
the  same  effect  on  the  mind  as  the  asking  of 
a  question.  When  our  Saviour  made  as 
though  he  would  have  gone  further,  he  ef- 
fectually questioned  his  disciples  as  to  the 
condition  of  their  hearts  in  relation  to  the 
duties  of  hospitality.  The  angels,  in  pre- 
tending that  it  was  their  purpose  to  abide 
in  the  street  all  night,  made  the  .same  ex- 
periment on  Lot.  This  species  of  simulation 
involves  no  falsehood — its  design  is  not  to 
deceive,  but  to  catechize  or  instruct.  The 
whole  action  is  to  be  regarded  as  a  sign  by 
which  a  question  is  proposed,  or  ihe  mind 
excited  to  such  a  degree  of  curiosity  and 
attention,  that  lessons  of  truth  can  be  suc- 
cessfully imparted.  The  command  to  Abra- 
ham to  sacrifice  his  son  involved  a  series 
of  practical  interrogatories,  to  which  no 
other  form  of  proposing  them  could  have 
elicited  such  satisfactory  responses.  The 
principle  holds  here,  which  obtains  in  refer- 


SINCEKITY.  166 

ence  to  fictions  and  fables.  The  action  is 
only  the  dress  of  the  thought,  and  where 
the  purpose  in  view  is  honourable  and  just, 
no  exceptions  can  be  taken,  on  the  score 
of  veracity,  to  the  drapery  in  which  it  is 
adorned.  But  when  it  has  no  ulterior  ob- 
ject, when  it  is  not  in  fact  a  sign,  it  is 
ihen  to  be  reckoned  as  deceit.  It  is  to  be 
judged  of  simply  as  it  is  in  itself  Just 
as  the  details  of  a  fiction,  if  represented 
absolutely  and  as  facts,  are  to  be  regarded 
as  departures  from  veracity.  Even  if  ca- 
pricious simulations  were  not,  as  they  are, 
lies,  they  are  so  much  like  them,  that  he 
who  accustoms  himself  to  indulge  in  this 
species  of  conduct,  must  insensibly  lose  his 
impressions  of  the  sacredness  of  truth,  and 
forfeit  that  delicate  sensibility  to  its  claims, 
upon  which  sincerity  depends.  It  is  dan- 
gerous to  sport  even  on  the  verge  of  guilt. 
The  least  that  can  be  said,  with  any  show  of 
reason,  is,  that  unmeaning  pretences  are 
analogous  to  foolish  talking  and  jesting, 
which   are   not   convenient.     It  is  especially 


166  SINCEKITV. 

important,  in  the  education  of  children,  that 
we  allow  ourselves  in  no  conduct,  which 
may  insensibly  affect  them  with  light  thoughts 
of  the  evil  of  hypocrisy.  The  child  who 
sees  his  parents  frequently  feigning,  without 
reason,  or  merely  for  amusement,  will  be  a 
dull  scholar  in  depravity,  if  he  should  not 
speedily  conclude  that  he  also  may  feign, 
when  his  interests  or  malice  require  it. 

4.  The  law  of  sincerity  is  not  violated  in 
those  cases  of  silence,  or  of  partial  and 
evasive  information,  (which,  however,  must 
always  be  correct,  as  far  as  it  goes,)  in  which 
the  design  is  not  deception,  but  conceal- 
ment. There  are  things  which  men  have 
a  right  to  keep  secret,  and  if  a  prurient 
curiosity  prompts  others  officiously  to  pry 
into  them,  there  is  nothing  criminal  or  dishon- 
est in  refusing  to  minister  to  such  a  spirit. 
Our  silence,  or  evasive  answers,  may  have 
the  effect  of  misleading — that  is  not  our 
fault,  as  it  was  not  our  design.  Our  purpose 
was  simply  to  leave  the  inquirer,  as  nearly 
as    possible,    in    the    state   of  ignorance   in 


SINCERITY.  167 

which  we  found  him — ^it  was   not   to  misin- 
form,   but   not  to    inform    at    all.      "Every 
man,"   says   Dr.  Dick,   "  has  not    a  right  to 
hear  the  truth  when  he  chooses  to  demand 
it.     We  are  not  bound  to  answer  every  ques- 
tion which  may  be  proposed  to  us.     In  such 
cases  we  may  be  silent,  or  we  may  give  as 
much  information  as  we  please  and  suppress 
the  rest.     If  the  person  afterwards  discover 
that  the  information  was  partial,  he  has  no 
title  to  complain,  because  he  had  not  a  right 
even  to  what  he  obtained;  and  we  are  not 
guilty  of  a  falsehood,  unless  we  made   him 
believe,   by  something  which   we   said,  that 
the  information  was   complete.     We  are  at 
liberty  to   put  off  with   an  evasive   answer, 
the   man    who   attempts    to    draw   from   us 
what  we  ought  to  conceal."     This  principle 
is    certainly   recognized    in    the   Scriptures. 
When    Jeremiah    was    interrogated  of    the 
Princes   in  relation  to  the   interview   which 
he   had  with  the   King,   he    concealed    the 
principal  design  of  it,  which  was  to  recom- 
mend submission  to  the  Chaldeans,  and  dis- 


16S  SINCERITY. 

closed  only  the  petition,  that  the  King  would 
not  remand  him  to  Jonathan's  house.  Sam- 
uel was  instructed  by  the  Lord  to  act  upon 
the  same  principle,  in  order  to  avoid  the 
danger  to  which  he  was  exposed  from  the 
resentment  of  Saul,  if  the  real  purpose  of 
his  mission  to  Bethlehem,  when  he  went  to 
anoint  David,  were  known.  "And  Samuel 
said,  how  can  I  go  ?  If  Saul  hear  it,  he  will 
kill  me.  And  the  Lord  said.  Take  an  heifer 
with  thee,  and  say  I  am  come  to  sacrifice  to 
the  Lord." 

The  principle,  of  course,  can  only  be  ap- 
plied to  those  cases  where  we  have  a  right 
to  conceal.  But  all  partial  and  evasive  an- 
swers, when  we  are  bound  to  speak  the 
whole  truth,  or  when  they  are  given  for  the 
purpose  of  deception,  are  inconsistent  with 
veracity.  Then  a  man  does  not  Mde^  but 
lie. 

It  may  be  asked  whether  a  direct  false- 
hood is  not  lawful  when  it  is  uttered  only 
for  the  purpose  of  concealment.  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  it  is  well  known,  defended  his  denial 


SINCERITY.  169 

to  the  Prince  of  Wales,  of  his  being  the  au- 
thor of  the  Waverly  Novels,  on  the  ground 
that  it  was  a  matter  which  he  was  anxious 
to  keep  secret,  and  that  he  could  not  do  it 
in  any  other  way,  but  by  the  course  which 
he  had  pursued.  In  all  such  cases,  however, 
the  immediate  end  is  deception — concealment 
is  only  a  remote  one.  We  intend  to  deceive 
in  order  to  conceal.  We  do  not  cover^  but 
misrepresent  our  mind,  which  can  never  be 
lawful,  however  important  the  ends  it  is 
intended  to  accomplish;  and  when  these 
ends  are  incapable  of  being  answered  in 
any  other  way,  we  should  take  it  as  a  clear 
intimation  from  Providence,  that  we  are  re- 
quired to  abandon  them.  In  the  case  just 
mentioned,  Scott  might  have  been  silent, 
might  have  changed  the  subject,  might  have 
protested  against  the  question  ;  and  although 
such  evasions  might  have  been  considered 
equivalent  to  a  confession,  yet  a  disclaimer 
on  his  part  that  he  meant  them  in  that  light, 
would  have  still  left  the  matter  in  some  de- 
gree of  uncertainty.  Guilt,  in  such  cases, 
8 


170  SINOEKITY. 

is  not  confined  to  the  party  who  prevaricates 
or  lies.  He  who  asks  impertinent  questions 
is  chargeable  with  the  sin  of  putting  a  stumb- 
ling block  in  his  brother's  way.  He  is  a 
tempter  to  evil. 

Having  made  these  general  explanations, 
which  seemed  to  be  necessary  in  order  to  an 
adequate  comprehension  of  the  subject,  I  pro- 
ceed to  indicate  some  of  the  modes  in  which 
the  law  of  sincerity  is  evaded,  after  which  I 
shall  discuss  the  question,  whether,  under  any 
circumstances,  it  can  be  dispensed  with ;  this 
being,  perhaps,  the  most  satisfactory  method 
of  elucidating  the  nature  and  extent  of  its 
application — more  definite,  certainly,  than 
vague  statements  of  what  it  requires,  which, 
at  best,  are  little  more  than  repetitions  of  the 
definition. 

1.  The  light  in  Avhich  Aristotle  treats  of 
truth,  in  his  Nichomachean  Ethics,  is  that  of 
simplicity  of  conduct,  and  the  extremes  of 
which  he  regards  it  as  the  medium,  are  vain 
boasting  and  self-disparagement.  *^  There  are 
men,"  says  he,  *'  who  arrogate  to  themselves 


SINCERITY.  171 

good  qualities  of  which  they  are  entirely  des- 
titute, and  who  amplify  the  good  qualities  of 
which  they  are  possessed  far  beyond  their 
real  measure  and  natural  worth.  The  ironi- 
cal dissembler  (I  should  prefer  to  translate 
the  word  self-dis]parager)  on  the  other  hand, 
either  conceals  his  advantages,  or,  if  he  can- 
not conceal,  endeavours  to  depreciate  their 
value,  whereas  the  man  of  frankness  and  plain 
dealing  shows  his  character  in  its  natural  size ; 
truth  appears  in  all  his  words  and  actions, 
which  represent  him  exactly  as  he  is,  Avithout 
addition  and  without  diminution."  There  are 
forms  in  which  these  vices  are  as  common  as 
they  are  disgusting.  Some  endeavour  to  ex- 
aggerate their  importance  by  pretending  to 
an  intimacy  with  the  great  to  which  they  are 
not  entitled,  and  others  to  depreciate  the  ex- 
cellencies for  which  they  are  distinguished, 
only  to  elicit  flattery  and  praise.  In  both 
cases,  it  is  the  hypocrisy  of  vanity ;  and  in 
both  cases  the  actor  is  guilty  of  a  lie. 

The  most  serious  form  of  hypocrisy,  how- 
ever, is  that  in  which  a  man  pretends  to  a 


172  SINCERITY. 

character  to  which  he  is  really  a  stranger. 
No  vice  is  more  severely  condemned  in  the 
New  Testament  than  this.  "But  woe  unto 
you,  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites !  for  ye 
shut  up  the  kingdom  of  heaven  against  men  : 
for  ye  neither  go  in  yourselves,  neither  suffer 
ye  them  that  are  entering  to  go  in."  This 
terrible  malediction,  from  lips  that  were  not 
given  to  the  language  of  denunciation,  is  re- 
peated no  less  than  seven  times  in  the  prog- 
ress of  a  single  discourse,  and  the  most  strik- 
ing imagery,  such  as  whited  sepulchres,  beau- 
tiful without,  but  within  full  of  dead  men's 
bones  and  all  uncleanness,  is  employed  to  de- 
pict the  hatefulness  of  the  sin.  The  only 
honest  way  of  maintaining  the  appearance  of 
virtue  is  to  possess  the  reality.  Every  other 
method  is  a  cheat. 

2.  The  law  of  sincerity  is  as  inconsistent 
with  adulation  and  flattery  as  it  is  with  hy- 
pocrisy. The  hypocrite  and  flatterer  belong 
to  the  same  genus;  one  lies  about  himself, 
the  other  about  his  neighbour,  but  both  are 
equally  liars.     Affability,  or  courtesy,  an  in- 


SINCERITY.  173 

separable  element  of  refined  and  elegant  man- 
ners, is  as  remote,  as  Aristotle  long  ago  point- 
ed out,  from  flattery,  on  the  one  hand,  as 
from  moroseness,  on  the  other.  Persons  of 
station  and  influence  are  apt  to  be  surround- 
ed with  a  croTVd  of  sycophants  who  vie  with 
each  other  in  concealing  their  defects,  exag- 
gerating their  virtues  and  lauding  their  vices. 
To  become  an  encomiast  of  sin,  seems  to  be 
the  last  point  of  degradation  to  which  a  ra- 
tional being  can  be  sunk,  and  yet  it  is  the 
point  to  which  all  flattery  tends,  and  which 
many  a  flatterer  has  reached.  This  vice  is 
sometimes  contracted  from  malice,  from  the 
wicked  design  of  exposing  the  weak  and 
credulous  to  ridicule,  by  possessing  them 
with  the  belief  that  they  are  distinguished  for 
qualities  which  do  not  belong  to  them ;  some- 
times from  selfishness,  from  the  base  desire  of 
rendering  the  vanity  of  another  subservient  to 
our  purposes  and  schemes — sometimes  from 
weakness,  from  a  sickly  delicacy  of  temper, 
which  shrinks  from  giving  pain,  or  from  in- 
curring the  resentment  to  which  honest  truth 


174  SINCERITY. 

might  give  rise.  There  are  degrees  of  malig- 
nity in  the  vice  according  to  the  motives  and 
ends  which  prompt  to  it.  But  in  every  form 
it  is  a  departure  from  truth,  as  well  as  a  de- 
parture from  that  charity  which  meditates  no 
wrong  to  another.  "  A  man  that  flattereth 
his  neighbour  sp**eadeth  a  net  for  his  feet." 

3.  There  is  another  form  of  falsehood 
which,  in  its  effects,  is  analogous  to  flattery, 
and,  in  its  nature,  is  a  species  of  hypocrisy. 
It  consists  in  pretensions  to  a  friendship 
which  is  not  felt.  The  world  thinks  so  little 
of  this  kind  of  lying  that,  except  in  flagrant 
and  aggravated  cases,  it  hardly  takes  the 
trouble  to  censure  it  when  exposed.  It  has 
caused  friendship  to  come  to  be  esteemed  as 
little  more  than  a  name. 

This  vice  is  peculiarly  hateful,  as  it  gains  a 
confidence  which  is  too  often  prostituted  to 
the  ruin  of  the  unsuspecting  and  credulous. 
It  was  in  the  mask  of  friendship  that  the  devil 
entered  the  garden  and  insinuated  the  lie 
which  brought  "  death  into  the  world  with  all 
our  woe" — ^in  the  mask  of  friendship  Judas 


SINCERITY,  176 

kissed  his  Master  to  betray  Him ;  and  in  the 
mask  of  friendship  Satan  now  comes  to  us  as 
an  angel  of  light  to  seduce  us  from  our  alle- 
giance to  God.  There  is  no  point  of  practical 
morality  which  needs  more  to  be  inculcated, 
than  the  sacred  duty  of  abstaining  from  every 
species  of  conduct  or  expression,  that  would 
induce  men  to  believe  that  we  think  more 
highly  of  them  than  we  do.  The  customs  of 
society  are  such  that,  without  perpetual  vigil- 
ance, we  are  liable  to  deceive  our  neighbours 
upon  this  point.  The  civilities  of  life  should 
never  be  so  exaggerated  as  to  create  the  im- 
pression of  extraordinary  regard,  where  ex- 
traordinary regard  does  not  exist.  The  affec- 
tation of  unusual  sweetness  of  expression  or 
blandness  of  manner,  honeyed  words,  soft  and 
insinuating  tones — a  lingering  pressure  of  the 
hand — apparent  reluctance  to  quit  one's  socie- 
ty, all  these  and  similar  expedients  are  arrant 
lies,  if  the  victim  of  the  tricks  is,  after  all,  no- 
thing more  than  a  stranger;  and  yet,  by  such 
tricks,  the  confidence  of  thousands  is  flattered 
out  of  them  by  knaves  and  cheats,  to  their 


176  SINCERITY. 

utter  ruin.  The  vice  is  well  called  perfidy, 
and  those  who  are  guilty  of  it  are  emphatical- 
ly children  of  the  devil.  "  Instruments  of 
cruelty  are  in  their  habitations.  Oh  my  soul ! 
come  not  thou  into  their  secret ;  unto  their  as- 
sembly, mine  honour,  be  not  thou  united." 

4.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add,  after 
what  has  been  said  of  the  nature  of  sincerity, 
that  equivocation  is  inconsistent  with  its 
claims.  It  consists  either  in^an  abuse  of  the 
ambiguity  of  language,  or  in  partial  state- 
ments of  the  truth,  for  the  purpose  of  pro- 
ducing an  erroneous  impression  of  the  whole. 
The  promise  of  Temures  to  the  Garrison  of 
Sebastia,  that  if  it  would  surrender,  not  a 
drop  of  blood  should  be  shed,  was  grammat- 
ically susceptible  of  the  meaning  in  which  he 
kept  it,  though  the  garrrison  understood  it 
as  conveying  a  pledge  of  exemption  from 
punishment.  He  was  just  as  truly  guilty  of 
a  falsehood  in  buryipg  them  alive,  though  he 
shed  no  blood,  as  if  he  had  promised,  in  so 
many  words,  to  spare  their  lives.  Words 
were   not  meant  to  conceal,  but  to  convey 


SINCERITY.  177 

thoughts;  and  if  a  man  takes  advantage  of 
their  ambiguity  to  make  a  grammatical  truth 
subservient  to  deceit,  he  fails  to  represent  his 
own  thoughts.  He  speaks  against  his  mind. 
The  idea  which  he  excites  in  another,  is  not 
the  idea  which  exists  in  himself 

The  other  mode  of  equivocation,  by  partial 
statements,  is  liable  to  the  same  objection. 
It  does  not  reproduce  our  own  convictions  in 
another.  Our  minds  are  not  read,  touching 
the  matter  in  question,  by  our  neighbour. 

Equivocation  may  exist  in  action  as  well 
as  in  words.  We  have  an  example  in  the 
case  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira.  They  sold 
their  lands — brought  a  part  of  the  price  and 
laid  it  down  at  the  Apostles'  feet.  They 
wished  to  produce  the  impression  that  they 
were  as  liberal  and  magnanimous  as  Barnabas 
and  the  other  believers,  who  had  sold  their 
possessions,  and  devoted  the  whole  to  the 
service  of  the  Church.  The  language  ac- 
cordingly of  their  conduct  was — that  this 
is  the  tvhole  price  of  the  land.  They  uttered 
no   falsehood  in  words — they  simply   acted 


178  SINCERITY. 

a  cheat ;  aiid  the  light  in  which  God  regards 
such  equivocation,  is  manifested  in  the  super- 
natural judgment  which  overtook  them. 

5.  Mental  reservations,  when  what  is  sup- 
pressed is  not  obvious  from  the  circumstances, 
and  it  is  necessary  to  prevent  deception, 
are  downright  lies.  What  is  kept  to  one's 
self  is  not  signified.  It  is  the  signs  which 
one  uses.,  not  those  which  he  suppresses, 
which  convey  his  thoughts  to  another,  and 
if  those  which  he  uses  are  not  in  correspond- 
ence with  his  convictions,  he  signifies  false- 
ly, and  therefore  lies.  That  form  of  reser- 
vation in  which  the  suppressed  circumstances 
are  things  to  be  taken  for  granted  as  known — 
provided  they  are  understood  at  the  time 
to  be  known,  is  no  real  reservation  at  all.  It 
is  only  where  what  is  suppressed  is  essential 
to  the  truth,  and  is  suppressed  for  the  pur- 
pose of  deceit,  that  the  reservation  comes 
under  the  censure  of  the  moralist.  And 
such  frauds  cannot  be  too  strongly  rebuked. 
They  are  destructive  of  all  confidence,  of  all 
intercourse  by  signs. 


SINCEllITV.  179 

Dr.  Paley  says  that  there  are  two  cases  in 
which  falsehoods  are  not  criminal.  The  first 
is  "  where  no  one  is  deceived,"  the  second, 
"  where  the  person  to  whom  you  speak  has 
no  right  to  know  the  truth,  or  more  properly, 
where  little  or  no  inconvenience  results  from 
the  want  of  confidence  in  such  cases."  These 
exceptions  are  perfectly  consistent  with  the 
theory  of  moral  obligation  which  confounds 
virtue  with  expediency  and  duty  with  ad- 
vantage. In  that,  every  thing  depends  upon 
the  effect;  and  where  no  appreciable  injury 
results,  or  evident  utility  obtains,  it  is  right 
and  proper  to  prevaricate  with  any  princi- 
ples or  to  dispense  with  any  laws.  But  if 
there  be  such  a  thing  as  inherent  and  essen- 
tial rectitude,  if  the  distinctions  betwixt  right 
and  wrong  be  permanent  and  unchanging, 
and  if  truth  be  one  of  the  elements  of  immu- 
table morality,  the  answer  of  Paley  must  be 
condemned  by  every  unsophisticated  heart.       y 

1.  In  the  first  class  of  cases  which  he 
exempts  from  the  operation  of  the  law  of 
sincerity,  he  has  fallen  into  the  unaccountable 


180  SINCEKITY. 

mistake  that  the  essence  of  a  lie  depends 
upon  the  effect  actually  produced.  He  con- 
founds the  falsehood  with  the  deception 
which  it  occasions.  The  utmost  that  can 
be  said,  with  any  show  of  reason,  is  that  the 
intention  to  deceive  is  necessary  to  guilt,  but 
the  intention  of  the  speaker  and  the  effect 
consequent  upon  it,  are  very  different  things. 
The  abandoned  liar,  whose  character  is 
known  to  the  community,  has  reached  a 
point  of  degradation  at  which  no  ©»e  thinks 
of  relying  upon  his  word,  and  yet  it  would 
be  strange  philosophy  to  say  that  because 
he  had  become  incapable  of  deceiving,  he  had, 
therefore,  become  incapable  of  lying,  except 
f/  by  telling  the  truth.  Augustin's  definition, 
which  is  the  one  commonly  adopted,  introduces 
the  jpurjpose  of  deceit  as  all  that  is  necessary 
to  render  a  false  signification  a  lie.  Even 
this,  as  it  seems  to  me,  is  going  beyond  what 
the  truth  of  the  case  admits.  The  law  ot 
sincerity  requires  that  a  man  who  addresses 
his  discourse  to  another,  should  introduce 
him,  as  nearly  as  possible,  into  the  condition 


SINCERITY.  181 

of  his  own  mind.  He  should  represent,  by 
whatever  signs  he  employs,  the  precise  state 
of  his  own  feelings  and  convictions.  The 
essence  of  a  lie,  consequently,  must  consist 
in  a  misrepresentation  of  one's  self,  or  in 
speaking  against  one's  mind.  "  Speech  was 
invented,"  says  Thomas  Aquinas,  ''for  the 
purpose  of  expressing  the  conceptions  of  the 
heart ;  whenever,  therefore,  any  one  utters 
what  is  not  in  his  heart,  he  utters  what  is  not 
lawful."  The  intention^  accordingly,  which 
determines  the  species  of  the  lie,  and  which 
gives  it  its  essential  or  formal  criminality,  is 
not  the  intention  to  deceive  another,  though 
that  is  criminal  and  is  generally  the  effect  of 
falsehood,  but  the  intention  to  misrepresent 
ourselves.  ''  Where  these  three  things  con- 
cur," says  Aquinas,  "  that  an  enunciation 
should  be  false,  voluntarily  made,  and  in- 
tended to  deceive,  there  is  found  material 
falsehood,  the  thing  asserted  not  being  true — 
formal  falsehood,  there  being  a  will  to  utter 
what  is  not  true — and  effective  falsehood, 
there   being   a   desire    to    impress    it   upon 


182  SINCERITY. 

others."  It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  how- 
ever, that  the  essence  of  lying  consists  in 
formal  falsehood,  or  a  voluntary  enunciation 
of  what  is  not  true ;  it  derives  its  name 
from  the  circumstance  that  it  consists  in 
speaking  against  one's  mind.  If  any  one, 
consequently,  utters  a  falsehood,  believing  it 
to  be  true,  he  himself  is  not  guilty  of  lying, 
though  the  thing  itself  be  materially  false, 
as  he  had  no  intention  of  falsehood.  What 
is  beside  the  intention  of  the  speaker  cannot 
enter  into  the  specific  difference  of  the  act. 
In  like  manner,  if  a  man  should  utter  a 
truth,  believing  it  to  be  a  lie,  he  would  be 
chargeable  with  the  moral  guilt  of  falsehood, 
that  being  the  purpose  of  his  will,  which  de- 
termines its  character,  though  accidentally 
it  happens  to  be  true.  This  pertains  to  the 
species  of  falsehood.  But  the  purpose  to 
mislead  another  by  deception,  does  not  per- 
tain to  the  species  but  to  the  perfection  of 
lying.  It  is  falsehood's  having  its  perfect 
work.  In  natural  things,  whatever  has  what 
pertains  to  the  constitution  of  a  species,    is 


SINCERITY.  183 

referred  to  that  species,  though  some  of  the 
usual  effects  may  be  wanting.  A  heavy- 
body  may  be  suspended  in  the  air,  and  the 
law  of  gravity  counteracted,  yet  because  the 
descent  which  gravity  is  fitted  to  produce, 
does  not  take  place,  it  would  be  absurd  to 
deny  that  the  body  in  question  is  possessed  of 
weight. 

Hence,  to  determine  the  question,  whether 
a  man  has  lied  or  not,  it  is  not  necessary 
to  inquire  whether  he  has  actually  deceived 
another,  but  whether  he  has  signified  in 
contradiction  to  the  thoughts,  feelings  or 
convictions  of  his  mind.  It  is  a  matter  of 
no  consequence  whether  his  falsehood  has 
been  believed  or  not.  The  moral  character 
of  Ms  act  does  not  depend  upon  his  neigh- 
bour's acuteness  or  simplicity,  but  upon  the 
purpose  of  his  own  heart.  The  intention  to 
deceive  is,  of  course,  to  be  presumed,  where 
a  man  voluntarily  and  consciously  misrep- 
resents himself  If  the  signs  which  he  em- 
ploys are  fitted  to  produce  a  given  impress- 
ion, and  he  knows  that  they  are  so  fitted, 


184  SINCERITY. 

if  the  impression  in  question  is  one  that 
would  always  be  produced  where  the  signs 
are  honestly  employed,  he  is  to  be  held 
guilty  of  designing  to  make  it.  But  what- 
ever might  be  the  secret  purpose  of  his  soul, 
he  is  a  liar  before  God,  if  he  knowingly  and 
willingly  utters,  or  in  any  other  way  signifies 
what  is  false.  This  is  the  essence  of  the  sin. 
Other  circumstances  may  aggravate  its  malig- 
nity, but  this  determines  its  specific  dif- 
ference. 

2.  Dr.  Paley  is  equally  unfortunate  in 
the  principle  upon  which  he  exempts  his 
second  class  of  cases  from  the  law  of  sin- 
cerity. The  right  of  another  to  know  the 
truth,  is  not  the  ground  of  my  obligation, 
when  I  speak  at  all,  to  speak  nothing  but 
the  truth.  It  is  the  ground  in  many  cases, 
of  my  obligation  to  speak — that  may  be 
freely  confessed — but,  if  independently  of 
this  ground,  I  choose,  upon  any  other  con- 
siderations, to  open  my  lips,  the  law  of 
sincerity  must  apply  to  my  discourse.  The 
absence  of  the  right  in  question,  on  the  part 


SINCERITY.  185    • 

of  my  neigh])our,  can  operate  no  farther  than 
to  justify  me  in  being  silent — it  exempts  me 
from  all  obligation  to  signify  at  all.  But  it, 
by  no  means,  imparts  to  me  a  right  to  signify 
falsely.  The  two  questions,  whether  I  am 
bound  to  speak  at  all  in  a  given  case,  and 
what  I  shall  speak,  are  entirely  distinct. 
The  consideration  of  my  neighbour's  right 
may  be  important  in  determining  the  first, 
it  is  of  no  importance  to  the  other,  except  as 
it  may  affect  the  extent  of  my  communica- 
tions. It  is  preposterous  and  absurd  to  con- 
found the  absence  of  a  right  to  know  the 
truth  with  the  existence  of  a  right  to  be 
cheated  with  a  lie.  The  ground  of  obliga- 
tion to  signify  nothing  but  truth,  when  one 
signifies  at  all,  is  that  it  is  truth — it  is  the  law 
under  which  alone  I  am  at  liberty  to  use  ^ 
signs  in  social  intercourse.  It  might  be 
questioned,  whether  even  upon  consider- 
ations of  expediency,  the  principle  of  Dr. 
Paley  ought  not  to  be  condemned.  To  say 
that  a  right  to  lie  is  the  correlative  of  the  ' 
absence  of  a  right  to  know  the  truth,  would 


186  SINCERITY. 

seem  to  be  equivalent  to  a  very  general 
dispensation  with  the  law  of  sincerity.  Each 
man  must,  in  ordinary  cases,  determine  for 
himself,  whether  the  right  attaches  to  his 
neighbour  or  not,  and  as  his  veracity  is  sus- 
pended upon  his  opinions  in  relation  to 
this  point,  no  one  could  ever  be  sure  that 
he  was  not  deceived.  How  is  a  man  to 
know  that  his  neighbour  deems  him  entitled 
to  the  truth?  From  his  neighbour's  dec- 
laration? But  that  declaration  has  no  value 
unless  it  is  previously  known  that  the  right 
in  question  is  conceded.  It  may  be  one  of 
those  things,  about  which,  in  his  judgment, 
another  has  no  right  to  know  the  truth. 
Hence  Paley's  law  would  obviously  be  the 
destruction  of  all  confidence.  How  much 
nobler  and  safer  is  the  doctriue  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  of  the  unsophisticated  language  of 
man's  moral  constitution,  that  truth  is  ob- 
ligatory on  its  own  account,  and  that  he  who 
undertakes  to  signify  to  another,  no  matter 
in  what  form,  and  no  matter  what  may  be 
the  right  in  the  case  to  know  the  truth,  is 


SINCERITY.  187 

bound  to  signify  according  to  the  convictions 
of  his  own  mind.  He  is  not  always  bound 
to  speak,  but  whenever  he  does  speak  he 
is  solemnly  bound  to  speak  nothing  but  the 
truth.  The  universal  application  of  this 
principle  would  be  the  diffusion  of  universal 
confidence.  It  would  banish  deceit  and  sus- 
picion from  the  world,  and  restrict  the  use 
of  signs  to  their  legitimate  offices. 


I'ait^fuliu^s 


"  Finally,  brethren,  whatsoever  things  are  true — ^think  on 
these  thinga" — ^Philippians,  iv.  8. 

TMQH    ir  1    "^^^   second   branch  of  practical 

DlbO.   V.J  1        1  •  1 

truth,  which  we  have  denominat- 
ed Faithfulness,  consists  in  making  our  ac- 
tions correspond  to  our  professions,  in  per- 
forming our  engagements  and  fulfilling  the 
expectations  which  we  have,  by  any  means, 
knowingly  and  voluntarily  excited.  Cicero* 
makes  faith  the  fundamental  principle  of  jus- 
tice, and  derives  the  word  in  Latin  from  the 
correspondence  it  exacts  betwixt  words  and 
deeds.  The  English  term  is  said  to  be  the 
third  person  singular  of  the  indicative  mood 
of  an  Anglo-Saxon  verb  signifying,  to  engage, 

*  Off.,  i.  T,  23.  Fundamentum  autem  justitise  est  fides,  id  est, 
dictorum  conventorumque  constantia  et  Veritas.  Ex  quo,  quam- 
quam  hoe  videbitur  fortasse  cuipiam  durius,  tamen  audeamus 
imitari  Stoicos,  qui  studiose  exquirunt,  tmde  verba  sint  ducta. 
credamusque,  quia.  Jiat,  quod  dictum  est,  appellatam  fidem. 


FAITHFULNESS.  189 

to  covenant,  to  contract.  The  definition, 
however,  extracted  by  Home  Tooke  from 
this  etymology — "  that  which  one  covenant- 
eth  or  engage th" — is  obviously  inconsistent 
with  the  usage  of  the  language.  Faithfulness 
obtains  not  in  the  making^  but  in  the  keeping 
of  covenants.  It  is  not  the  saying^  but  the 
doing  of  what  we  have  said,  that  constitutes, 
as  Cicero  suggests,  the  very  essence  of  the 
virtue.  Quia  fiat  quod  dictum  est  contains  the 
substance  of  a  good  definition,  whatever  may 
be  said  of  the  accuracy  of  the  philology. 

The  engagements  of  men,  to  which  faith- 
fulness extends,  may  be  embraced  under 
the  heads  of  Promises,  Pledges,  and  Yows. 
These  three  classes,  in  their  relations  to  each 
other,  are  an  instance  of  moral  climax,  and 
furnish  a  beautiful  illustration  of  the  ascend- 
ing scale  of  moral  obligation.  The  pledge  is 
more  solemn  than  the  promise,  and  the  vow 
more  solemn  than  the  pledge.  The  peculiar- 
ities which  distinguish  the  pledge  and  vow 
from  an  ordinary  promise  impart  an  addi- 
tional   sacredness    to    the   duty.     They   are 


190  FAITHFULNESS. 

species  of  which  it  is  the  genus ;  they  include, 
consequently,  all  that  it  includes  and  some- 
thing characteristic  of  themselves ;  and  as  the 
differences  by  which  they  are  distinguished 
from  it  and  from  each  other,  involve  moral 
elements  of  the  highest  importance,  there 
must  be  a  corresponding  solemnity  of  obliga- 
tion and  a  corresponding  malignity  of  guilt  in 
case  of  transgression.  The  pledge  turns  upon 
a  point  of  honour,  and  stakes  a  man's  reputa- 
tion for  integrity  upon  compliance  with  his 
engagement.  As  the  whole  virtue  of  a  female 
is  summed  up  in  her  chastity,  so  the  whole 
character  of  the  man  for  probity  and  upright- 
ness is  summed  up  in  the  single  instance  of 
redeeming  his  pledge.  To  break  a  pledge, 
therefore,  is  not  only  unjust  but  disgraceful. 
The  vow  is  of  the  nature  of  an  oath,  it  is  an 
act  of  religious  worship ;  and  to  disregard  it, 
is  to  be  guilty  of  irreverence  to  God.  There 
is  fraud  in  all  breaches  of  engagement,  wheth- 
er of  promises,  pledges,  or  vows — that  being 
the  very  essence  of  unfaithfulness;  but  to 
break  a  promise  is  simply  fraudulent,  to  break 


FAITHFULNESS.  191 

a  pledge  is  infamous,  and  to  break  a  vow  is 
profane.  He  who  violates  a  promise  tramples 
upon  truth  and  justice,  he  who  violates  a 
pledge  tramples  upon  character,  and  he  who 
violates  a  vow  tramples  upon  God. 

In  illustrating  the  duty  of  faithfulness  I 
shall  begin  with  promises,  and  restrict  myself 
to  the  two  points  of  their  definition  and  the 
grounds  of  their  obligation. 

I.  According  to  the  ordinary  acceptation 
of  the  term,  the  essence  of  a  promise  consists 
in  the  peculiar  mode  of  signifying,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  all  reference  to  the  matter,  or  thing 
signified.  Whenever,  by  the  voluntary  use 
of  signs,  whether  verbal  or  otherwise,  we 
knowingly  excite  expectations  in  the  mind  of 
another,  whatever  may  be  the  nature  of  the 
things  expected,  we  are  said  to  promise. 
The  etymology  of  the  word  has,  perhaps,  con- 
tributed to  the  currency  of  this  meaning.  It 
is  a  paronym  of  promittere — to  send  ahead,  as 
if  the  prominent  idea  were  the  projection  of 
the  mind  of  another  into  the  future.  Qui 
pollicentur — says  Vossius — verbis  aliquem  in 


192  FAITHFULNESS. 

longum  mittant,  ut  qui  non  tarn  faciant  quam 
aliquando  se  facturos  recipiant. 

If  the  definition  of  a  promise  is  to  be  re- 
stricted exclusively  to  the  mode  of  signifying, 
it  is  manifest  that  promises  are  not  essential- 
ly obligatory.  Whether  they  shall  be  bind- 
ing or  not  is  an  accidental  circumstance. 
There  is  nothing  in  themselves,  nothing  in 
their  own  nature,  considered  simply  as  prom- 
ises, which  can  give  rise  to  the  obligation. 
They  may  or  may  not  do  so,  but  when  they 
do  so,  it  is  not  because  they  are  promises,  but 
because  of  other  considerations.  This  state- 
ment, though  a  legitimate  deduction  from  the 
definition  in  question,  and  from  the  loose  lan- 
guage of  ordinary  life,  is  in  open  and  flagrant 
contradiction  to  the  common  feeling  of  the 
race.  There  is  not  a  deeper  or  more  pervad- 
ing sentiment  than  that  of  the  sacredness  of 
covenants.  The  common  sense  of  men  is 
always  right,  though  language  does  not  al- 
ways adequately  represent  it.  There  is  a-dis- 
tinction  in  the  signification  of  words  analo- 
gous to  that  between  the  spontaneous  and  re- 


FAITHFULNESS.  193 

flective  processes  of  reason.  A  philosopher, 
therefore,  should  not  look  to  the  meaning 
which  floats  upon  the  surface,  and  which  a 
term  has  received  from  accidental  circum- 
stances— he  should  penetrate  into  the  hearts 
of  men  and  find  out  the  meaning  which  has 
real  emphasis  there.  That  is  its  true  sig- 
nification, and  the  one  to  which  he  should 
restrict  it,  which,  without  reflection,  finds 
an  echo  in  the  soul.  In  the  case  before 
us,  the  associations  which  are  instantly  awak- 
ened by  the  term  are  all  of  a  solemn  and  sa- 
cred character.  Its  primary  emphatic  refer- 
ence is  only  to  that  class  of  declarations 
which  are  felt  to  be  obligatory.  It  'has  been 
applied  to  others  in  consequence  of  the  palpa- 
ble resemblance  in  form,  but  this  is  a  reflec- 
tive application  which,  as  it  does  not  repre- 
sent, so  it  does  not  disturb,  the  spontaneous 
feelings  which  cluster,  around  the  word.  It 
is  still  univocal  to  the  heart.  If,  then,  in  con- 
formity with  the  real  convictions  of  mankind, 
nothing  can  be  regarded  as  strictly  and  prop- 
erly a  promise,  which  is  not  essentially  obliga- 


194:  FAITHFULNESS. 

tory,  the  definition  must  include  something 
more  than  the  mode  of  signifying.  It  must 
also  take  account  of  the  matter.  As  that  is 
not  to  be  considered  as  a  deed  in  law — 
though  it  may  be  loosely  called  so — which 
conveys  no  right,  so  that  should  not  be  re- 
garded as  a  promise,  in  the  ethical  sense, 
which  creates  no  duty.  It  may  have  the 
form,  but  not  the  substance,  the  appearance, 
but  not  the  reality.  Those  semblances  of  the 
thing,  in  which  the  language  of  a  promise  is 
employed,  but  in  which  the  life  of  a  promise 
is  not  found,  I  would  call  apparent  promises, 
while  those  which  create  obligation  and  give 
rise  to  rights,  I  would  denominate  real.  Then 
the  proposition  would  be  universal,  that  all 
real  promises  are  binding,  and  binding  pre- 
cisely because  they  are  promises,  and  all  the 
cases  in  which  divines  and  casuists  have  held 
them  to  be  void  could  be  explained,  at  once, 
upon  the  simple  principle,  that  they  are 
not  cases  of  promisCiJ  at  all.  They  are  only 
counterfeit  coin.  They  have  the  shape,  the 
stamp,  the  appearance  of  the  true  currency. 


FAITHFULNESS.  196 

but  they  want  the  gold.  I  would,  therefore, 
define  a  real  promise,  as  any  form  of  volunta- 
ry signification  which  has  a  known  tendency 
to  excite  an  expectation  in  the  mind  of  an- 
other, in  regard  to  a  matter  which  is  possible 
and  right.  Here  the  mode  of  signifying  and 
the  thing  signified,  the  matter  and  the  form, 
both  enter  into  the  specific  difference.  It  is 
not  enough  that  expectations  are  excited,  or 
means  employed  which  are  suited  to  excite 
them,  the  things  expected  must  be  lawful  in 
themselves  and  within  the  competency  of  him 
that  promises.  But  we  can  best  vindicate  the 
propriety  of  the  definition  by  a  brief  examin- 
ation of  its  parts. 

1.  Any  mode  of  voluntary  signification^ 
without  limitation  to  any  particular  class  of 
signs.  This  includes  tacit  as  well  as  express 
promises.  It  is  obviously  indifferent  by  what 
means  thought  is  communicated,  the  import- 
ant thing  is  that  it  be  actually  done.  To  re- 
strict promises  to  words  is  to  make  them  the 
only  language  of  the  mind,  to  the  exclusion 
of  actions,  gestures,  and  signs,  which  may  be 


196  FAITHFULNESS. 

equally  made  the  vehicle  of  thought  and  the 
instruments  of  exciting  expectation. 

2.  The  signification  must  be  voluntary^ 
otherwise  the  promise  is  not  a  moral  act,  and 
cannot  be  attributed  to  him  who  makes  it. 

3.  Which  has  a  known  tendency  to  ex- 
cite expectation.  Paley  makes  the  essence 
of  a  promise  depend  on  the  fact,  that  ex- 
pectations are  excited.  This  is  to  resolve 
the  cause  into  the  effect.  The  promise  must 
be  conceived  as  existing^  before  expectations 
can  be  conceived  as  produced.  The  fact  of 
their  production  depends  not  upon  the  fact 
that  a  promise  has  been  made,  but  that  a 
promise  has  been  believed,  and  faith  in  the 
author  is  essential  to  the  reality  and  obli- 
gation of  a  promise  ;  it  is  not  simply  his  own 
act  which  binds  the  agent,  but  the  effect  it 
has  produced.  It  would  follow,  too,  that  a 
liar  could  not  make  a  promise  because  he 
could  not  create  expectation.  The  promise 
is  clearly  the  act  of  the  man  that  makes  it, 
and  as  it  comes  from  him  independently  of 
any  influence  upon  others,  it  possesses  every 


FAITHFULNESS.  197 

element  that  is  necessary  to  a  perfect  obliga- 
tion. It  is  indifferent  whether  it  is  believed 
or  not;  all  that  is  important  is  that  if  be- 
lieved, it  should  give  rise  to  expectation — 
it  should  be  a  cause  suited  to  produce  the 
effect,  whether  it  succeeded  in  doing  so  or 
not.  The  author  must  hnow  that  it  has  this 
tendency.  He  must  understand  the  import 
of  his  signs,  or  they  would  not  convey  the 
thoughts  of  his  mind.  The  expectations 
which  the  signs  are  fitted  to  excite,  will  al- 
ways be,  with  an  honest  man,  the  expectation 
he  aims  to  produce.  His  language  will  con- 
vey his  real  meaning.  But  if  he  is  disposed 
to  be  dishonest  and  evasive,  he  is  held  re- 
sponsible for  the  known  tendencies  of  the 
cause  which  he  has  put  in  operation.  The 
rule  of  Paley  that  a  promise  is  always  to  be 
interpreted  in  the  sense  in  which  the  prom- 
iser  apprehended  at  the  time  that  the  prom- 
isee received  it,  results  immediately  from 
the  definition  we  have  given. 

4.  I  have  ventured  to  add  to  the  definition, 
in  regard  to  a  matter  ivhich  is  ^possible  and 


198  F  A  I  T  H  F  I'  L  N  K  S  S  . 

right.  These  it  is  universally  conceded  are 
conditions  of  the  obligation  of  a  promise. 
No  man  can  be  bound  to  do  what  it  is  phys- 
ically impossible  that  he  can  do,  or  what 
contradicts  the  principles  of  right.  It  can 
obviously  never  be  his  duty  to  do  wrong, 
and  just  as  little  can  it  be  his  duty  to  exer- 
cise a  power  which  has  never  been  imparted 
to  him.  If  he  was  made  a  man,  he  can  only 
be  required  to  do  the  work  of  a  man.  Now, 
as  all  the  other  cases  in  which  promises  are  not 
binding  may  be  explained  by  showing  that 
they  are  not  promises  at  all;  that  something 
is  wanting  to  complete  them,  or  that  they 
have  been  formally  cancelled  and  annulled; 
as  they  are  confessedly  apparent  and  not  real, 
it  would  contribute  to  simplify  the  whole 
subject,  by  reducing  those  which  are  impos- 
sible and  unlawful  to  the  same  category. 
Any  man  who  will  take  the  trouble  to  exam- 
ine Paley's  enumeration  of  the  cases  in  which 
promises  are  void,  will  see,  that  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  impossible  and  unlawful,  the 
promise   is  either  defective  in  form,  or  has 


FAITH  F  U  L  N  E  S  S  .  199 

ceased  to  exist.  A  promise  before  accept- 
ance, that  is,  before  notice  to  the  promisee, 
is  manifestly  no  promise,  because  it  wants 
the  necessary  element  of  signification.  It 
is  as  Paley  says,  nothing  more  than  a  res- 
olution of  the  mind.  Promises  released  by 
the  promisee  have  just  as  manifestly  ceased 
to  exist.  The  right  which  was  created  has 
been  relinquished,  and  the  obligation  has 
expired  with  it.  Erroneous  promises  are  not 
promises,  because  their  being  was  contingent 
— it  was  suspended  upon  a  condition  which 
has  confessedly  failed.  If  now  we  make 
possibility  and  lawfulness  essential  to  the 
being,  as  they  are  to  the  obligation  of  a 
promise,  the  proposition  would  be  unlimited, 
that  all  real  promises  are  binding,  and  that 
those  were  only  apparent,  only  shadows  and 
semblatfces,  which  entailed  no  obligation  of 
performance.  These  apparent  promises 
would  then  be  reduced  to  two  classes,  those 
which  were  defective  in  form,  embracing  the 
three  last  heads  of   Paley,   and  "those  which 


200  FAITHFULNESS. 

were    defective    in    matter,    embracing    his 
three  first  heads. 

II.  The  next  point  to  be  considered  is 
the  ground  of  the  obligation  of  promises. 

The  advantages  of  good  faith  are  so  pal- 
pable and  manifest,  it  is  so  indispensable  to 
the  very  existence  of  society,  that  the  utilita- 
rian makes  out  a  very  plausible  case,  in  re- 
solving the  duty  of  it  into  considerations  of 
expediency.  Paley  has  made  the  best  of  the 
argument.  He  has  set  in  a  very  clear  light, 
not  only  the  importance  but  the  necessity  of 
confidence,  and  then  concludes  that  what 
we  cannot  do  without,  we  must  have  sim- 
ply because  we  cannot  do  without  it.  But 
the  truth  is,  its  importance  depends  upon  its 
rectitude.  Society  is  the  union  of  moral  and 
intelligent  beings,  and  it  is  because  they  are 
moral,  that  virtue  is  their  security  and  hap- 
piness. It  is  the  law  of  their  nature,  and 
of  course  is  the  condition  of  their  prosperity 
and  well  being. 

Without  detracting,  therefore,  in  the  least 
from    what  Paley   has    said  upon  the  utilitj 


FAITHFULNESS.  201 

of  confidence,  we  proceed  to  show  that  the 
real  ground  upon  which  promises  are  binding 
is,  that  they  involve  moral  elements  which 
are  the  immediate  data  of  conscience.  These 
elements  are  the  principles  of  truth  and  jus- 
tice. A  man  is  bound  to  keep  his  promise 
from  the  two-fold  consideration  that  his  own 
veracity  and  the  rights  of  another  are  at 
stake. 

1.  The  law  of  sincerity  requires  that  the 
promiser  should  signify  the  purpose  pre- 
cisely as  it  exists  in  his  own  mind.  He  can- 
not mean  one  thing  and  say  another  with- 
out falsehood.  But  this  law  requires  nothing 
more  than  the  honest  expression  of  present 
intentions. 

2.  But  the  law  of  truth  goes  farther,  it 
requires  that  a  man's  words  shall  correspond 
to  the  reality  of  things.  It  is  not  enough, 
in  regard  to  past  facts,  that  a  man  be  hon- 
est and  sincere  in  the  declarations  which  he 
makes,  he  must  have  used  all  diligence  to 
guard   against   deception   and    mistake.      If 

what  we  have  called   the   remote  matter  of 
9* 


\^. 


0 


202  FAITHFULNESS. 

^  truth  be  wanting,  he  is  culpable  unless  his 
mistake  arises  from  causes  beyond  his  con- 
trol. The  same  principle  holds  in  regard  to 
future  facts.  The  event  must  correspond 
to  our  words,  unless  it  can  be  shown,  that 
though  we  honestly  believed  that  it  would 
correspond  when  we  made  the  declaration, 
it  has  failed  to  do  so  through  no  fault  of  ours. 
The  language  of  a  promise  is  absolute  and 
assertory,  it  positively  affirms  two  things ;  a 
present  intention  and  the  continuance  of  that 
intention  until  the  thing  is  done.  It  declares 
that  a  thing  sliall  be,  and  as  its  existence  de- 
pends upon  himself,  the  promiser  is  bound 
to  realize  the  fact  at  the  appointed  time. 
He  is  bound  to  make  things  consistent  with 
his  words.  Hence,  he  who  fails  to  keep  a 
promise,  is  universally  detested  as  a  liar,  not 
because  he  is  supposed  to  have  been  insin- 
cere at  the  time  of  making  it,  but  because 
the  thing  has  not  taken  place  according  to 
his  word.  He  is  responsible  for  the  want 
of  material  truth,  because  it  was  clearly 
in  his  power  to  produce  it. 


FAITHFULNESS.  203 

3.  But  what  particularly  enforces  the  obli- 
gation of  a  promise  is  the  right,  created  by 
the  expectation  it  excites,  to  have  it  fulfilled. 
It  is  distinguished  from  a  simple  resolution 
in  that  it  does  not  terminate  upon  ourselves. 
It  extends  to  another  party,  and  gives  him 
a  claim  of  justice  which  he  did  not  possess 
before.  Hence,  a  breach  of  promise  is  not 
only  a  lie  but  a  fraud.*  The  connection  of 
rights  with  promises  is  clearly  discoverable  in 
the  case  of  contracts.  There  the  engage- 
ment is  mutual,  but  the  transaction  is  only  a 
reciprocation  of  promises — no  moral  elements 
enter  into  it,  which  do  not  enter  into  every 
other  promise.  Now  there  is  nothing  of 
which  the  parties  to  a  contract  are  more  dis- 
tinctly conscious,  than  that  they  have  a  right 
to  demand  from  each  other  the  fulfilment  of 
their  stipulations.     It  is  true  that  the  law  rec 

*  *'  We  should  remember  that  when  we  bind  ourselves  by  a 
promise  to  give  any  good  thing  to  another,  or  to  do  any  thing 
lor  the  benefit  of  another,  the  right  of  the  thing  promised  passes 
over  from  \is  to  the  person  to  whom  the  promise  is  made,  as 
much  as  if  we  had  given  him  a  legal  bond,  with  all  the  formal- 
ities of  signing  and  sealing ;  we  have  no  power  to  recall  or  re? 
verse  it  without  his  leave."    Watts's  Sermon  on  thi§  tgxt, 


S04  FAITHFULNESS. 

ognizes  the  right  only  in  the  case  of  a  val- 
uable consideration.  But  the  design  of  the 
distinction  is  to  protect  men  from  the  conse- 
quences of  rash  and  ill-considered  acts.  The 
presumption  is,  that  what  has  been  done  with- 
out a  proper  motive,  has  been  done  thought- 
lessly and  hastily.  What  shows  that  this  is 
the  spirit  of  the  law,  is  the  fact  that  it  al- 
ways presumes  a  consideration,  where  the 
promise  has  been  made  under  such  sanctions 
as  to  imply  deliberation.  There  is  no  essen- 
tial difference  in  so  far  as  they  are  promises, 
and  consequently,  in  so  far  as  moral  obliga- 
tion is  concerned,  between  the  nudum  j^;«c- 
tum  of  the  law  and  those  contracts  which 
it  undertakes  to  enforce.  The  consideration 
is  not  the  source  of  the  right — it  is  only  the 
cause  of  the  promise  that  gives  the  right. 
The  consideration  is  a  guarantee  that  the 
man  has  promised  with  his  eyes  open — that 
he  knew  what  he  was  doing.  The  law  in- 
terposes it  as  a  security  to  itself  that  it  shall 
not  oppress  the  weak. 

In  the  case  of  promises  to  do  unlawful  or 


FAITHFULNESS.  206 

impossible  things,  there  can  obviously  be  no 
right  on  the  part  of  the  promisee  to  demand 
a  fulfilment.  It  is  a  contradiction  in  terms 
that  he  can  have  a  right  to  make  his  neigh- 
bour do  wrong,  and  a  flagrant  absurdity  that 
a  creature  can  exact  from  his  fellow  what 
even  God  cannot  enjoin.  But  while  there  is 
no  injustice  in  the  violation  of  these  promises, 
there  is  enormous  fraud  in  making  them, 
when  the  unlawfulness  and  impossibility  are 
known  at  the  time.  The  man  shows  himself 
reckless  of  truth  and  reckless  of  his  neigh- 
bour's right.  He  manifests  a  contempt  of 
veracity  and  justice.  He  is  guilty  of  the 
same  species  of  crime,  as  he  who  solemnly 
pretends  to  transfer  the  property  of  another, 
or  who  knowingly  circulates  counterfeit  coin, 
or  who  forges  a  note  or  a  bill  of  exchange. 
As  in  other  cases  the  falsehood  and  fraud  con- 
sist in  breaking^  here  they  consist  in  making 
the  promise.  The  crime  is  the  same,  but  it 
dates  from  a  different  point.  The  same  eter- 
nal principles  of  right  which  proclaim  as  with 
a  voice  of  thunder — thou  shalt  keep  all  real 


206  FAITHFULNESS. 

promises, — -just  as  solemnly  command,  thou 
shalt  make  no  unlawful  engagements.  In 
cases  in  which  the  unlawfulness  and  impossi- 
bility were  not  known  at  the  time  of  mak- 
ing the  promise,  it  may  be  fairly  presumed, 
that  the  promise  was  tacitly  conditioned  by 
them,  and  though  there  may  be  rashness, 
there  is  nothing  of  fraud  in  engagements 
made  upon  mistake.  The  implied  condition 
has  failed  and  the  promise  is  at  an  end. 

Before  dismissing  the  subject  of  promises, 
there  are  tvfo  questions  of  casuistry  which 
deserve  a  moment's  consideration,  and  which 
may  be  regarded  as  a  test  of  the  principles 
we  have  maintained. 

The  first  is,  whether  extorted  promises 
are  binding?  The  second,  whether,  when 
a  promise  proceeds  upon  an  unlawful  con- 
dition, and  the  condition  has  been  fulfilled, 
the  promise  is  to  be  kept  ?  That  is,  whether 
there  can  ever  be  a  real  promise  which  is 
unlawfully  conditioned  ? 

1.  As  to  extorted  promises,  the  only  point 
to  be  settled  is  the  subjective  condition  of 


FAITHFULNESS.  2Q7 

the  agent.  "^  Did  he  voluntarily  signify  and 
did  he  know  the  import  of  the  signs  he 
employed?  If  he  was  in  such  a  state  of 
agitation  and  alarm,  that  he  could  not  com- 
mand the  use  of  his  faculties;  if,  in  other 
words,  he  was  deprived,  for  the  time,  of  the 
essential  elements  of  moral  agency,  he  could 
no  more  be  responsible  for  his  acts  than 
an  idiot  or  a  lunatic.  But  if  he  hneiv  what 
he  was  doing,  no  violence  of  fear,  no  exter- 
nal pressure  can  exempt  him  from  respon- 
sibility. The  act  was  voluntary,  though 
not  chosen  for  itself  The  man  was  in  cir- 
cumstances which  led  him  to  prefer  it  as 
the  least  of  two  evils.  He,  therefore,  in 
a  moral  sense  deliberately  promised,  and  the 
obligation  is  the  same  as  in  all  other  cases. 
The  true  security  against  being  drawn  into 
an  engagement,  which  we  are  subsequently 
reluctant  to  perform,  is  that  firm  reliance 
upon  the  providence  of  God  which  enables 
us   to    look    upon    danger    with    contempt, 

*  See  on  this  subject,  besides  the  common  treatises,  Taylor's 
Bule  of  Conscience,  book  iv.,  chap  i.,  rule  7. 


208  FAITHFULNESS. 

or  to  regard  nothing  as  a  danger  which 
does  not  shake  our  claim  upon  the  Di- 
vine protection.  Let  the  heart  be  estab- 
lished by  confidence  in  Him,  and  then 
there  is  no  ground  for  the  fear  of  evil 
tidings.  The  preservation  of  integrity  should 
be  superior  to  all  other  considerations,  and 
it  is  a  miserable  confession  of  weakness, 
that  the  love  of  life  or  limb  has  been  stronger 
than  the  love  of  virtue.  No  Christian  man 
should  ever  be  prevailed  on  by  the  ser- 
vile motive  of  fear,  to  make  engagements 
which  his  sense  of  propriety  condemns. 
Why  should  he  fear  who  has  the  arms  of 
the  Almighty  to  sustain  him  ?  What  shield 
like  that  of  a  good  conscience  aid  the  fa- 
vour of  God?  Of  all  men  the  true  Chris- 
tian should  exemplify  the  description  of 
the  heathen  poet : 

Justum  ac  tenacem  propositi  virum 
Non  eiviura  ardor  prava  jubentium, 
Non  vnltus  instantis  tyranni 
Mente  quatit  solida  neque  Auster 
Dux  inquieti  turbidus  Hadriae, 
Nee  fulminantis  magna  manus  Jovis. 
Si  fractus  illabitur  orbis 
Impavidum  ferient  ruinse. 


FAITHFULNESS.  209 

Those  circumstances  in  which  cowardice 
yields  and  puts  in  the  plea  of  extortion, 
constitute  the  occasions  on  which  the  Chris- 
tian hero  may  illustrate  the  magnanimity 
of  his  principles.  Virtue  becomes  awful 
when  it  subordinates  to  itself  the  whole 
external  world.  A  good  man  struggling 
with  the  storms  of  fate,  unshaken  in  his  al- 
legiance to  God,  and  steady  in  his  purpose 
never  to  be  seduced  into  wrong,  is  the 
noblest  spectacle  which  the  earth  can  pre- 
sent. There  is  something  unutterably  grand 
in  the  moral  attitude  of  him,  who,  with  his 
eye  fixed  upon  the  favour  of  God,  rises  su- 
perior to  earth  and  hell,  and  amid  the  wrecks 
of  a  thousand  barks  around  him  steers  his 
course  with  steadiness  and  peace. 

2.  To  the  other  question  concerning  the 
effect  of  an  unlawful  condition  upon  the  va- 
lidity of  a  promise,  I  am  constrained  to 
return  a  very  different  answer  from  that 
which  has  been  given  by  most  recent  writers 
whom  I  have  been  able  to  consult.*     Paley 

*  I  am  gratifl  id  in  being  able  to   state  that  Dr.  Adams,  late 


210  FAITHFULNESS. 

says,  ^'it  is  the  ])erformance  being  unlawful, 
and  not  any  unlawfulness  in  the  subject  or 
motive  of  the  promise,  which  destroys  its 
validity ;  therefore,  a  bribe  after  the  vote 
is  given ;  the  wages  of  prostitution ;  .the  re- 
ward of  any  crime,  after  the  crime  is  com- 
mitted ;  ought,  if  promised,  to  be  paid.  For 
the  sin  and  mischief  by  this  supposition  are 
over,  and  it  will  be  neither  more  nor  less 
for  the  performance  of  the  promise."  "  It 
is  sometimes  made  a  question,"  says  Dr. 
Whewell,*  "  supposing  such  an  informal  con- 
tract immorally  made,  whether,  when  the 
immoral  end  is  answered,  it  is  a  duty  to  per- 
form the  rest  of  the  contract;  for  instance,  if 
a  person  were  elected  to  an  office  of  public 
trust,  on  promise  of  sums  of  money  to  the 
electors,  whether,  after  his  election,  it  is 
his  duty  to  pay  these  sums.  We  may  remark 
that  the  question  here  is  not,  what  he  is  to 
do  as  an  innocent  man ;  for  by  the  supposition 

President  of  Charleston  College,  is  an  honourable  exception. 
See  his  Moral  Philos.,  p.  210. 

*  Ebments  of  Morality,  book  iii.,  chap.  15,  §  386. 


FAITHFULNESS.  211 

he  is  a  guilty  one ;  having  been  concerned  in 
an  immoral  bargain.  If  the  question  be  what 
is  he  to  do  as  a  repentant  man,  convinced  of 
his  guilt  and  wishing  henceforth  to  do  what 
is  right,  the  answer  is,  that  he  must  pay. 
There  is  no  reason  why  he  should  add  to  the 
violation  of  his  absolute  duty,  the  violation 
of  his  relative  duty  to  the  promisees.  If  in 
his  repentance  he  wishes  not  to  complete  an 
immoral  transaction,  he  is  to  recollect  that 
the  immoral  transaction  is  completed  by  his 
election.  If  he  wish  to  mark  his  hatred  of 
the  offense,  he  may  signify  his  meaning  more 
clearly,  by  expressing  his  repentance  and  pay- 
ing the  money  than  by  keeping  it,  which  may 
be  interpreted  as  adding  avarice  and  false- 
hood to  the  violation  of  public  duties." 

Upon  these  statements  I  have  to  remark,  1, 
that  Paley's  solution  is  inconsistent  with  the 
principles  of  his  own  philosophy.  The  effect 
of  keeping  such  promises  is  to  encourage  the 
making  of  them,  and  upon  the  doctrine  of 
general  consequences — the  evil  of  the  exam- 
ple,— they  ought  not  to  be  kept.     "The  sin 


212  FAll  HF  f  LNKSS. 

and  mischief"  are  not  over.  If  it  were  uni- 
versally felt  and  acted  on,  that  such  engage- 
ments were  not  binding,  there  would  soon  be 
an  end  to  them.  It  is  the  very  doctrine  of 
Paley  and  Whewell  that  gives  them  currency 
in  the  world.  2.  In  the  next  place,  Dr. 
Whewell's  solution  proceeds  upon  a  distinc- 
tion between  relative  and  absolute  duties 
which  is  purely  fictitious  and  arbitrary.  He 
affirms  that  in  the  case  of  an  immoral  promise 
there  is  an  absolute  duty  to  break  it.  ''  In  all 
such  cases,  the  promiser  by  his  promise  has 
rejected  his  moral  nature,  and  can  only  re- 
sume it  by  repudiating  his  own  act."  But 
there  is  a  relative  duty  to  the  promisee  to 
keep  it.  Now,  if  I  owe  a  relative  duty  to  the 
promisee,  he  has  a  moral  claim  upon  me,  in 
the  language  of  Dr.  Whewell,  in  which  a 
moral  claim  is  equivalent  to  an  imperfect 
right.  There  is,  consequently,  a  collision  of 
absolute  and  relative  duty.  If,  therefore,  a 
man  keeps  his  promise,  he  does  his  duty 
and  yet  sins,  or  if  he  breaks  his  promise, 
he   di^es   his    duty   and   sins.      That   is,   the 


FAITH  F  I  LNESS.  21S 

same  act  is  both  right  and  wrong  at  the 
same  time.  The  absurdity  is  intolerable,  and 
yet  it  cannot  be  avoided  without  repudiat- 
ing the  distinction  in  question.  The  true 
state  of  the  case  is,  that  the  absolute  duty 
is  the  only  duty  involved,  and  the  effect  of 
it  is  to  prevent  the  rise  of  the  relative  duty 
which  ensues  upon  a  lawful  promise.  It  is 
the  absolute  principles  of  right  which  deter- 
mine obligation,  in  the  concrete  instances  of 
life.  There  never  can  be  a  duty,  relative  or 
absolute,  to  do  a  wrong  thing.  It  is  a  contra- 
diction in  terms.  No  man  can  ever  have  a 
claim  upon  another  for  a  violation  of  the 
eternal  principles  of  right.  As,  then,  the  ex- 
istence of  a  relative  duty  depends,  in  every 
case,  upon  the  lawfulness  of  the  promise.  Dr. 
Whewell,  instead  of  resolving  the  difficulty, 
has  quietly  begged  the  question.  He  has  as- 
sumed that  there  is  a  relative  duty  to  the 
promisee,  when  that  is  the  very  point  in  dis- 
pute, and  vindicates  his  assumption  by  main- 
taining that  in  all  cases  of  immoral  promises 
it  exists,  though,  when  the  performance  is  un- 


214  FAITHFULNESS. 

lawful,  the  superior  importance  of  the  abso- 
lute duty  supersedes  it. 

3.  To  me  it  seems  that  the  true  answer  is, 
that  an  unlawful  condition  renders  the  prom- 
ise absolutely  null  and  void.  That  condition, 
in  the  language  of  the  schools,  is  no  moral  en- 
tity— Quad  ex  nihilo  nihil  Jit  is  as  true  in  morals 
as  physics.  The  man  who  stipulated  to  per- 
form it  was  confessedly  not  bound — the  other 
party  had,  and  could  ha,ve,  no  right  or  claim 
upon  him.  His  act,  therefore,  has  no  moral 
value.  The  promise  and  its  fulfilment,  how- 
ever, are  only  parts  of  one  and  the  same  pro- 
cess. If  now,  at  the  time  of  making  the  un- 
lawful stipulation,  the  maker  was  not  bound 
by  it,  the  other  party  was  equally  free  from 
obligation  in  relation  to  his  promise.  The 
promiser  was  bound  only  upon  the  supposi- 
tion that  the  promisee  was  bound.  Now,  if  the 
making  and  fulfilment  of  a  promise  are  parts 
of  the  same  act,  and  no  obligation  accrued  at 
the  time  of  making,  it  is  clear  that  none  can 
ever  subsequently  arise.  The  moral  relation 
of  the  parties  undergoes  no  changes. 


FAITHFULNESS.  215 

4.  It  should,  further,  be  recollected,  that  to 
maintain  the  validity  of  such  promises  is  com- 
pletely to  reverse  the  cardinal  principle  of 
moral  government.  It  is  to  reward  the  wicked 
and  to  punish  the  righteous.  There  is  some- 
-thing  inexpressibly  revolting  in  either  giving 
or  receiving  the  wages  of  iniquity.  I  cannot 
conceive  of  a  position,  in  which  a  man  more 
openly  and  flagrantly  sets  at  defiance  the 
eternal  rule  of  justice,  or  more  shockingly 
travesties  the  moral  administration  of  his 
God,  than  when  he  dispenses  favours  to  the 
guilty,  upon  the  ground  that  they  are  guilty. 
This  attitude  of  bold  contradiction  to  the  law 
of  the  Divine  government  is  enough  to  brand 
with  enormity  the  doctrine  which  justifies  it. 
He  cannot  be  right  who  mocks  instead  of  imi- 
tating God.  r  have  no  doubt  that  the  moral 
principle  which  I  am  here  repudiating  and 
which  is  so  universally  maintained,  is  the  pro- 
lific parent  of  infamy,  outrage,  and  crime.  It 
is  a  devil  whose  name  is  legion.  Let  it  be 
cast  out  from  society,  and  many  a  man  who 
has  been   the  victim   of  its  power,  will   be 


216  FAITHFULNESS. 

found  clothed  and  in  his  right  mind  sitting  at 
the  feet  of  Jesus. 

One  consideration  which  serves  to  uphold 
this  species  of  promises,  is  the  apprehension 
that  if,  when  the  unlawful  condition  has  been 
performed,  the  other  party  should  refuse  ta 
execute  his  engagements,  he  will  be  exposed 
to  the  imputation  of  mean  and  interested  mo- 
tives. He  would  not  be  likely  to  receive  any 
credit  for  a  high  sense  of  integrity.  If  he 
was  not  too  conscientious  to  begin  the  sin, 
the  presumption  would  be,  that  it  was  some- 
thing beside  conscience  which  kept  him  from 
completing  it.  This  equivocal  position  is  the 
penalty  which  repentance  must  pay  for  the 
crime.  It  is  a  grievous  cross,  but  it  is  a 
cross  that  must  be  borne.  It  is  a  memorial 
of  transgression  which  serves  at  once  to  pro- 
mote severity  to  ourselves  and  charity  to 
others — a  broken  limb,  or  a  bone  out  of  joint, 
that  keeps  one  in  constant  recollection  of  his 
fall. 

I  cannot  dismiss  this   subject  of  promises 
without    alluding    to    the    peculiar    interest 


FAITHFULNESS.  217 

which  attaches  to  it,  in  the  mind  of  the  true 
believer,  in  consequence  of  the  prominence 
which  is  given  to  the  promises  of  God  in  the 
dispensation  of  the  Gospel.  The  faithfulness 
of  Jehovah  is  our  only  hope  ;  and  for  the  pur- 
pose of  alluring  our  confidence,  as  well  as  il- 
lustrating His  own  grace.  He  deals  with  his 
creatures  in  the  way  of  covenant.  He  conde- 
scendingly gives  them  a  right,  which  embold- 
ens their  access  to  the  throne  of  grace.  The 
promises,  all  yea  and  amen  in  Christ  Jesus, 
are  the  sure  warrant  that  they  shall  not  be  re- 
ceived with  coldness  nor  sent  empty  away. 
Hardly  a  blessing  is  bestowed,  which  is  not 
apprehended  in  some  promise,  before  it  is  en- 
joyed in  experience.  A  faithful  and  cov- 
enant-keeping God ;  these  are  the  precious 
titles  by  which  a  sinner  loves  to  recognize  the 
God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
The  Gospel  is  nothing  but  a  great  charter  of 
promises ;  and  that  man  must  renounce  his 
inheritance  in  the  covenant  of  grace,  and  ab- 
jure the  hope  of  everlasting  life,  who  can 

think  or  speak  lightly  of  what  the  blessed 
10 


218  FAITHFULNESS. 

God  has  sanctified  by  His  own  example.  In 
reverencing  the  sacredness  of  promises,  we  rev- 
erence Him  who  is  emphatically  a  God  to  sin- 
ners, only,  when  in  faith  they  apprehend  His 
covenant.  In  the  preciousness  of  His  prom- 
ises, we  have  an  illustration  of  the  moral 
value  of  faithfulness,  and  the  fidelity  which 
we  delight  to  attribute  to  Him,  we  should  en- 
deavour to  imitate  in  all  our  own  engage- 
ments. Be  ye  perfect,  even  as  your  Father 
in  heaven  is  perfect.  Whatsoever  things  are 
true,  think  on  these  things. 

Pledges. 

Pledges,  under  the  Roman  Law,  were  prop- 
erly securities  for  the  payment  of  a  debt. 
The  thing  pledged  was  put  into  the  possess- 
ion of  the  creditor,  with  a  right  to  sell  it  and 
indemnify  himself  against  the  loss,  in  case  the 
creditor  failed  to  comply  with  his  contract. 
If,  for  example,  a  man  borrowed  money,  and 
deposited  his  watch  or  his  jewels  with  the 
lender,  in  token  that  he  would  repay  the  sum, 
the  watch  or  the  jewels  became  a  pledge  or 


FAITHFULNESS.  219 

pawn.  lu  war  and  among  public  enemies, 
the  security  for  the  faithful  execution  of  a 
treaty,  or  the  performance  of  any  specific  stip- 
ulations, was  called  a  hostage.  Whatever  was 
pledged  or  pawned  was,  of  course,  possessed 
of  such  value,  that  the  desire  to  redeem  it 
would  be  likely  to  be  stronger  than  any  in- 
ducements to  violate  faith.  The  fundamental 
notion  of  a  pledge,  therefore,  is  that  of  a 
security  ;  a  protection  to  the  promisee  against 
injury  or  loss.  In  bargains  of  sale,  or  con- 
tracts of  debt,  the  thing  pledged  was  always 
something  that  the  creditor  might  sell.  In 
treaties  among  hostile  armies,  hostages  were 
usually  persons  of  consequence,  whose  re- 
demption was  of  greater  importance  than  any 
incidental  advantages  that  might  accrue  from 
breach  of  engagement.  In  either  case,  the 
pledge  was  a  distinct,  tangible,  palpable  thing, 
and  of  such  value  as  to  be  a  real  guarantee  of 
good  faith.  Transferred  from  bargains  and 
treaties  to  a  peculiar  and  solemn  form  of 
promises,  the  pledge  still  retains  its  funda- 
mental meaning  of  security,  but  ceases  to  be 


220  FAITHFULNESS. 

a  tangible  commodity.  In  these  cases  it  is  a 
man's  honour  which  he  puts  in  pawn,  as  a 
guarantee  of  the  faithful  execution  of  his 
promise. 

The  language  of  a  pledge  is,  I  renounce 
all  claims  to  integrity  and  honour,  I  am  will- 
ing to  be  excluded  from  society,  to  be 
stripped  of  character,  to  be  an  object  of  con- 
tempt and  detestation,  if  I  am  found  wanting 
in  fidelity  to  my  engagements. 

The  faith  which  is  pledged  under  such 
sanctions  cannot  be  violated  without  aggra- 
vated guilt.  Character  is  not  a  thing  to  be 
sported  with,  infamy  and  disgrace  not 
trifles  to  be  laughed  at ;  and  he  who  deals 
with  honour  as  a  bauble,  will  experience  a 
penalty  that  may  well  make  him  tremble.  It 
cannot  be  too  earnestly  inculcated  upon 
the  young,  that  to  break  a  pledge  is  apt  to 
be  followed  by  the  total  ruin  of  one's  virtue. 
Trangression  is  not  a  transitory  thing.  The 
single  act  is  soon  done  and  over,  but  it  leaves 
an  influence  behind  which,  like  the  adder's 
poison,   may  grow   and  operate  and   spread 


FAITHFULNESS,  221 

until  it  reaches  the  seat  of  life,  ind  triumphs 
in  the  ruin  of  its  victim.  No  act  of  the  will 
— it  is  an  indestructible  and  fearful  law  of 
our  being — ever  passes  away  without  leaving 
its  mark  upon  the  character.  There  is  a 
double  tendency  in  every  voluntary  deter- 
mination, one  to  propagate  itself,  the  other  to 
weaken  or  support,  according  to  its  own 
moral  quality,  the  general  principle  of  virtue. 
Every  sin,  therefore,  imparts  a  proclivity  to 
other  acts  of  the  same  sort,  and  disturbs  and 
deranges,  at  the  same  time,  the  whole  moral 
constitution;  it  tends  to  the  formation  of 
special  habits  and  to  the  superinducing  of 
a  general  debility  of  principle,  which  lays  a 
man  open  to  defeat  from  every  species  of 
temptation.  %  The  extent  to  which  a  single  act 
shall  produce  this  double  effect,  depends  upon 
its  intensity,  its  intensity  depends  upon  the 
fulness  and  energy  of  will  which  will  enter 
into  it,  and  the  energy  of  will  depends  upon 
the  strength  of  the  motives  resisted.  An 
act,  therefore,  which  concludes  an  earnest 
and  protracted  conflict,  which  has  not  been 


222  FAITHFULNESS. 

reached  without  a  stormy  debate  in  the  soul, 
which  marks  the  victory  of  evil  over  the 
love  of  character,  sensibility  to  shame,  the 
authority  of  conscience  and  the  fear  of  God, 
an  act  of  this  sort  concentrates  in  itself  the 
essence  of  all  the  single  determinations 
which  preceded  it,  and  possesses  a  power  to 
generate  a  habit  and  to  derange  the  con- 
stitution, equal  to  that  which  the  whole  series 
of  resistances  to  duty,  considered  as  so  many 
individual  instances  of  transgression,  is  fitted 
to.  impart.  By  one  such  act  a  man  is  im- 
pelled with  an  amazing  momentum  in  tlie 
path  of  evil.  He  lives  years  of  sin  in  a  day 
or  an  hour.  It  is  always  a  solemn  crisis 
when  the  first  step  is  to  be  taken  in  .«  career 
of  guilt,  against  which  nature  acl  educa- 
tion, or  any  other  strong  influences  protest. 
The  results  are  unspeakably  perilous  when 
a  man  has  to  fight  his  way  into  crime. 
The  victory  creates  an  epoch  in  his  life. 
He  is  from  that  hour,  without  a  miracle  of 
grace,  a  lost  man.  The  earth  is  strewed  with 
wrecks  of  character  which  were  occasioned 


FAITHFULNESS.  *      228 

by  one  fatal  determination  at  a  critical  point 
in  life,  when  the  will  stood  face  to  face  with 
duty,  and  had  to  make  its  decision  deliber- 
ately and  intensely  for  evil.  That  act  threw 
the  whole  energy  of  being  into  the  direc- 
tion of  sin.  A  young  man  has  been  trained 
in  a  righteous  horror  of  gambling ;  he  looks 
upon  cards  or  dice  with  shuddering  and 
dread.  His  whole  soul  is  set  against  them. 
In  an  ill-omened  hour  he  is  tempted  to  play. 
The  associations  of  childhood,  his  father's 
counsels,  his  mother's  warnings,  a  sister's 
love,  the  convictions  of  his  own  judgment, 
the  fearful  consequences  of  the  crime  both 
in  this  world  and  that  which  is  to  come, 
every  moral  energy  which  conscience,  relig- 
ion and  the  love  of  character  can  summon, 
rise  up  to  protest  against  the  deed.  He  is 
staggered,  he  hesitates,  he  almost  resolves 
to  flee  the  temptation.  But  a  spell  is  on  him, 
the  seducer  pursues  him,  the  conflict  is  re- 
newed, he  is  in  agony,  and  at  last  resolves  in 
desperation   and   madness   to   terminate  the 


224  FAITHFULNESS. 

struggle — he  plays.      From    that    time    his 
character  is  fixed,  the  man  is  ruined. 

To  break  a  pledge  is  a  critical  act  of  the 
same  kind.  It  is  an  act  of  concentrated  po- 
tency for  evil.  It  is  a  victory  after  a  severe 
contest,  and  in  the  triumph  x)f  evil,  sensibil- 
ity to  shame  and  tenderness  of  conscience 
have  been  paralyzed  or  lost.  The  man  feels 
that  he  is  disgraced  and  degraded  and  gives 
himself  up  to  infamy  and  vice  without  a  fur- 
ther struggle.  Character  is  gone,  and  all  mo- 
tive for  honourable  effort  has  ceased  to  exist. 
As  in  the  case  of  the  female  who  has  lost  her 
chastity,  his  virtue  has  perished  with  his  hon- 
our. It  is  a  solemn  thing  to  stake  character 
upon  the  hazard  of  a  single  act,  and  he  who 
has  done  it  should  feel,  that  nothing  less  than 
the  whole  moral  history  of  his  being  is  in- 
volved in  the  issue.  When  the  pledge  is 
apprehended  in  its  true  significancy  and  re- 
lations, and  the  natural  effects  of  a  breach  of 
it  according  to  the  fixed  principles  of  human 
nature,  are  duly  appreciated,  it  will  be  seen 
to  be  one  of  those  critical  obligations  which 


FAITHFULNESS.  225 

should  be  approached  with  somewhat  of  the 
awful  reverence  that  belongs  to  the  oath. 
It  should  never  be  made  cheap.  It  is  a  secu- 
rity^ and  should  only  be  resorted  to  on  im- 
portant occasions,  where  important  interests 
are  at  stake.  But  once  made  in  regard  to  a 
matter  which  is  possible  and  right,  a  man 
should  die  rather  than  forego  it.  Death  is 
tolerable,  but  real  dishonour  cannot  be  borne. 
Sacred  as  the  pledge  is,  however,  it  can 
never  justify  wrong.  After  what  has  been 
said  upon  the  subject  of  promises,  to  which 
the  pledge  generically  belongs,  it  would  be  un- 
necessary to  add  any  thing  here,  were  it  not 
that  the  feelings  of  the  young  are  apt  to  mis- 
lead them  upon  this  point,  and  betray  them 
into  contradictions,  which,  always  a  snare, 
may  terminate  in  permanent  injury  to  char- 
acter. The  alternative  seems  to  be  dishon- 
our, or  an  unlawful  act.  Both  are  evils ;  and 
upon  the  principle  of  choosing  the  least,  an 
individual  instance  of  transgression  is  prefer- 
red to  a  general  shock  of  the  moral  sensibilities. 

The  young  man  says,  I  had  rather  do  this  par- 
10* 


226  FAITHFULNESS. 

ticular  unlawful  act,  than  sacrifice  the  whole  se- 
curity for  good  which  I  find  in  a  delicate  re- 
gard for  reputation.  In  this  predicament 
students  in  college  are  very  often  involved. 
They  enter  into  combinations  against  legit- 
imate authority  under  the  sanctions  of  a 
pledge.  They  feel  that  their  honour  is  at 
stake,  and  that  their  faith  must  be  redeemed, 
at  whatever  sacrifice  to  their  own  prospects, 
the  wishes  of  their  parents,  or  the  prosperity 
of  the  institution  against  which  they  have 
conspired.  The  feeling,  that  of  the  sacredness 
of  honour,  is  a  noble  one,  and  should  not  be 
rudely  shocked.  But  the  point  is,  that  true 
honour  in  this  case,  requires  that  the  pledge 
should  be  broken.  It  was  a  grievous  sin  to 
make  it,  but  having  been  made  nothing  re- 
mains but  the  duty,  which  extends  to  every 
instance  of  transgression,  of  immediate  repent- 
ance. The  evil  must  be  undone.  The  man 
who  has  taken  a  wrong  step,  should  instantly 
retrace  it.  There  can,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
be  no  obligation  to  persevere.  Unlawful 
pledges,  like   unlawful   promises,    create    no 


FAITHFULNESS.  227 

rights,  and  as  the  attempt  to  give  a  security 
for  evil  only  deepens  the  crime,  the  pledge 
is  only  a  counterfeit  stipulation  of  honour. 
The  principle  which  would  attach  dishonour 
to  the  breach  of  such  unlawful  engagements, 
if  legitimately  carried  out,  would  unhinge  the 
entire  system  of  morals.  It  assumes  that 
man  can  set  aside  the  law  of  God,  that  the 
stern  prohibitions  of  eternal  rectitude  can  be 
changed  into  transient  commands  by  the  will 
of  a  feeble  creature,  that  the  word  of  man 
may  become  superior  to  the  word  of  his 
Maker.  No,  let  God  be  true  and  every  man 
a  liar,  and  when  He  speaks,  let  us  promptly 
obey,  whatever  may  have  been  our  previous 
engagements  to  evil.  The  effects  which 
result  from  the  breach  of  a  lawful  pledge,  and 
which  render  it  so  critical,  cannot  obtain  in 
this  case.  The  spirit  which  here  operates  is 
the  spirit  of  repentance,  the  act  is  an  act  of 
virtue,  and  its  tendency,  consequently,  is  to 
strengthen  the  general  principle  of  virtue. 
To  keep  the  pledge,  however,  as  an  act 
of  transgression,  has  all  the  influences  which 


22$  FAITHFULNESS. 

essentially  iuhere  in  sin.  We  say,  therefore, 
confidently  to  the  young,  Be  cautious  never 
to  be  entangled  in  engagements  of  this  sort, 
but  if,  in  an  evil  hour,  you  have  been  seduced 
into  them,  take  the  first  opportunity  of  re- 
asserting your  allegiance  to  right. 

There  is  not  a  more  touching  proof  of 
God's  condescension  to  the  weakness  of  His 
creatures,  than  the  use  of  the  pledge,  on  His 
part,  to  assure  our  hearts  of  the  immutability 
of  His  counsel.  His  promises,  though  felt  to 
be  yea  and  amen  in  Christ  Jesus,  appeal  to 
considerations  less  personal  and  distinct — 
the  abstract  principle  of  truth  and  justice; 
but  the  pledge  is  an  appeal  to  His  honour, 
or,  in  the  language  of  Scripture,  to  His 
glory,  which  stands  in  the  same  relation  to 
Him,  that  honour  does  to  us.  We  cannot 
disbelieve,  without  the  most  revolting  blas- 
phemy, when  God  puts  His  character  in  pawn 
for  His  word.  He  addresses  us  on  a  ground 
which  comes  home  to  us  with  peculiar  power. 
He  transfers  to  Himself  our  regard  for  reputa- 
tion,   and    if   we   instinctively   shrink    from 


FAITHFULNESS.  229 

whatever  is  branded  with  ignominy  and  dis- 
grace, how  can  we  imagine  that  the  very 
fountain  of  purity  shall  become  corrupt,  the 
very  source  of  honour  defiled.  The  glory 
of  God  is  an  expression  that  contains  the 
most  impressive  sanction  that  the  imagin- 
ation of  man  can  conceive.  When  God 
plights  His  glory,  He  plights  His  right 
to  the  love,  homage  and  adoration  of  His 
creatures.  He  plights  all  claim  upon  their 
worship,  veneration  and  obedience.  He 
virtually  engages  to  abdicate  His  throne,  and 
to  be  stripped  of  the  prerogatives  that  be- 
long to  Him ;  to  lose  His  own  self-respect, 
to  forfeit  forever  His  name,  if  He  should  be 
found  unfaithful  to  His  word.  What  a  secu- 
rity to  the  heirs  of  the  promise !  How  can 
we  hesitate  in  committing  our  souls,  our 
interests  for  time  and  for  eternity,  to  that 
everlasting  covenant  which  is  charged  with 
the  glory  of  God?  What  broader  founda- 
tion could  be  laid  for  our  faith  ?  As  if  it 
were  not  enough  to  appeal  to  us  upon  the 
eternal  principles  of  truth,  and  justice,  and 


230  FAITHFULNESS. 

righteousness,  as  if  these  were  too  abstract 
and  impalpable  to  arouse  our  sympathies  and 
wake  up  a  warm  and  living  interest,  God 
comes  to  us  in  a  relation  which  is  pre-em- 
inently personal,  and  stands  before  us  as  one 
who  has  a  name  to  vindicate,  and  puts  His 
faithfulness  on  a  ground,  which  in  the  case 
of  a  man,  a  creature  like  ourselves,  we  rec- 
ognize as  the  most  sacred  and  solemn  of  all 
sanctions.  As  certainly  as  God  cannot  deny 
Himself,  as  certainly  as  His  own  glory  is 
the  end  of  all  His  works,  the  scope  of  every 
manifestation  of  His  being,  as  certainly  as 
His  own  great  name  is  dear  to  Him,  so  cer- 
tainly shall  every  pledge  of  His  love  be  re- 
deemed. Not  one  word  of  all  the  good 
things  He  hath  spoken,  shall  ever  fall  to  the 
ground.  Heaven  and  earth  may  pass  away, 
but  the  word  of  the  Lord  abideth  forever, 
and  this  is  the  word  which  by  the  Gospel  is 
preached  unto  us.  We  cannot  sufficiently 
adore  that  goodness  which  has  stooped  to 
our  infirmities  and  illustrated  this  faithfulness 
by  the  analogy  of  principles  which  address 


FAITHFULNESS.  281 

themselves  with  power  to  every  human  heart, 
and  which  shut  us  up  to  the  alternative  of 
faith  or  the  most  shocking  and  abominable 
imputations  upon  the  Divine  character. 

I  conclude  the  subject  of  our  engagements 
with  our  fellow-men  with  a  caution,  that 
cannot  be  too  earnestly  inculcated  upon  the 
young,  and  that  is,  never  by  facility  of  tem- 
per, by  reluctance  to  give  offence,  or  anxiety 
to  please,  permit  themselves  to  be  betrayed 
into  expressions  naturally  fitted  to  excite  ex- 
pectations, when  it  is  not  their  purpose  to 
come  under  the  obligation  of  a  promise. 
"  It  must  be  observed,"  says  Dr.  Paley,  ''  that 
most  of  those  forms  of  speech  which,  strictly 
taken,  amount  to  no  more  than  declaration 
of  present  intention,  do  yet,  in  the  usual 
way  of  understanding  them,  excite  the  ex- 
pectation, and  therefore  carry  with  them  the 
force  of  absolute  promises.  Such  as  '  I  in- 
tend you  this  place,'  'I  design  to  leave 
you  this  estate,'  '  I  purpose  giving  you  my 
vote,'  '  I  mean  to  serve  you.'  In  which 
although  the  'intention,'  the  'purpose,'  th* 


232  FAITHFULNESS. 

'design,'  the  'meaning'  be  expressed  in 
words  of  the  present  time,  yet  you  cannot 
afterwards  recede  from  them  without  a 
breach  of  good  faith.  If  you  choose,  there- 
fore, to  make  known  your  present  intention, 
and  yet  to  reserve  to  yourself  the  liberty  of 
changing  it,  you  must  guard  your  express- 
ions by  an  additional  clause,  as  '  I  intend  at 
present,'  '  if  I  do  not  alter,'  or  the  like. 
And  after  all,  as  there  can  be  no  reason  for 
communicating  your  intention,  but  to  excite 
some  degree  of  expectation  or  other,  a  wan- 
ton change  of  an  intention  which  is  once  dis- 
closed, always  disappoints  somebody,  and  is 
always  for  that  reason  wrong.  There  is  in 
some  men  an  infirmity  with  regard  to  prom- 
ises, which  often  betrays  them  into  great  dis- 
tress. From  the  confusion,  or  hesitation,  or 
obscurity  with  which  they  express  themselves, 
especially  when  overawed,  or  taken  by  sur- 
prise, they  sometimes  encourage  expectations, 
and  bring  upon  themselves  demands  which 
possibly,  they  never  dreamed  of     This  is  a 


FAITHFULNESS.  233 

want  not  so  much  of  integrity  as  of  presence 
of  mind." 

A  man's  character  suffers  in  the  eyes  of 
others,  his  self-respect  is  diminished  in  his 
own,  when  he  finds  himself  ensnared  into 
reputed  obligations  to  which  he  has  weak- 
ly or  foolishly  given  rise.  His  ingenuous- 
ness and  candour  are  brought  under  a  cloud, 
and  however  he  may  vindicate  his  name, 
he  cannot  but  feel  that  he  has  put  a  weapon 
into  the  hands  of  malice.  "He  that  in- 
tends," says  Jeremy  Taylor,  "to  do  himself 
honour  must  take  care  that  he  be  not  sus- 
pected; that  he  give  no  occasion  of  re- 
proachful language ;  for  fame  and  honour 
is  a  nice  thing,  tender  as  a  woman's  chas- 
tity,* or  like  the  face  of  the  purest  mirror, 
which  a  foul  breath  or  an  unwholesome  air, 
or  a  watery  eye  can  sully,  and  the  beauty  is 
lost,  though  it  be  not  dashed  in  pieces. 
When  a  man,  or  a  sect  is  put  to  answer  for 
themselves  in  the  matter  of  reputation,  they, 
with  their  distinctions,  wipe  the  glass,  and 
at  last  can  do  nothing    but   make  it  appear 


284  FAITHFULNESS. 

it  was  not  broken ;  but  their  very  abstersion 
and  laborious  excuses  confess  it  was  foul  and 
faulty." 

There  is  but  one  way  of  avoiding  these 
painful  predicaments,  and  that  is  by  putting 
a  bridle  upon  our  lips.  He  that  offends 
not  in  word  is  a  perfect  man.  Speech  is 
a  sacred  prerogative,  the  tongue  rules  the 
world,  and  we  should  see  to  it  that  our  hearts 
rule  it.  Let  us  weigh  the  import  of  what 
we  utter,  speak  with  the  deliberation  of  ra- 
tional and  accountable  beings,  speak  accord- 
ing to  our  real  purposes  and  thoughts,  and 
we  shall  be  saved  the  mortification  and  the 
shame  of  even  an  appearance  of  failure  in 
good  faith.  It  is  an  awkward  thing  and 
humbling  to  a  good  man,  to  have  to  defend 
himself  from  the  imputation  _  of  perfidy, 
when  malice  can  give  any  colour  to  the 
charge.  As  to  suspect  a  servant  is  to  corrupt 
him,  so  calumny  often  drives  men  to  crime. 
They  resent  the  injustice  of  mankind  by  be- 
coming what  they  have  been  falsely  rep- 
resented to  be.     They  take  reprisals  on  soci- 


FAITHFULNESS.  235 

ety  by  practising  the  vices  of  which  they 
have  experienced  the  shame  without  the  guilt. 
Let  the  young,  then,  guard  with  jealous  care 
the  sanctity  of  their  faith.  Let  them  avoid 
even  the  appearance  of  evil.  Let  them  even 
suffer  wrong  rather  than  give  the  least  oc- 
casion of  being  suspected  of  falsehood,  du- 
plicity, or  fraud.  If  Achilles,  who  had  Chiron 
for  his  master,  could  exult  in  the  ingen- 
uous simplicity  of  his  character,  how  should 
he  who  has  had  the  Son  of  God  for  his 
teacher  and  example,  be  clothed  with  truth 
as  with  a  garment? 

The  evil  of  being  seduced  into  engage- 
ments contrary  to  our  purpose,  is  not  to  be 
compared  with  that  of  being  ensnared  into 
those  that  are  unlawful.  To  make  a  promise 
or  pledge  with  the  consciousness  that  the 
matter  of  it  is  wrong,  is  a  most  deliberate 
compact  with  the  devil ;  it  is  selling  one's  self 
to  evil.  He  that  does  so  either  intends  to 
keep  his  word,  or  he  does  not.  If  he  intends 
to  keep  it,  he  actually  makes  evil  his  good  and 
approximates  as  closely  as  his  circumstances 


2'dQ  FAITHFULNESS. 

will  allow,  to  the  father  of  lies,  who  never 
speaks  truth,  except  when  it  redeems  his  en- 
gagements to  sin.  If  he  does  not  intend  to 
keep  it,  he  is  guilty  of  deliberate  fraud.  In 
either  view,  the  making  of  an  unlawful  prom- 
ise, knowingly  and  voluntarily,  is  an  aggra- 
vated crime.  Few,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  ever 
reach  this  pitch  of  wickedness.  But  to  make 
an  unlawful  promise,  unconsciously,  is  not 
without  sin.  It  is  always  rash ;  and  though  it 
is  not  obligatory,  it  places  a  man,  when  the 
unlawfulness  is  discovered,  in  a  very  painful 
situation.  It  is  apt  to  diminish  his  sensibility 
to  moral  distinctions — to  superinduce  a  soph- 
istry which  corrupts  the  heart  and  darkens  the 
understanding.  The  very  anxiety  to  exempt 
himself  from  censure  will  tempt  him  to  prevar- 
icate with  duty,  and  the  effort  to  acquit  the 
criminal  may  terminate  in  a  justification  of 
the  crime.  To  come  in  close  contact  with 
vice  is  always  dangerous. 

•   "  Seen  too  oft,  familiar  with  its  face. 

We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace." 

To  apologize  for  sin  is  the  next  step  to  the 


FAITHFULNESS.  287 

commission  of  it ;  and  to  apologize  for  it  all 
those  will  be  tempted  to  do  who  have  been 
entangled  in  unlawful  engagements.  Let 
all  men,  but  particularly  the  young,  guard 
against  them  with  a  holy  solicitude.  Resolve 
never  to  make  a  promise  without  having  well 
weighed  the  moral  character  of  its  matter. 

Never  let  a  formula,  implying  obligation, 
pass  your  lips  unless  you  are  sure  that  it  re- 
lates to  nothing  which  is  inconsistent  with 
your  duty  to  God  or  man.  Whatever  is 
not  of  faith  is  sin,  and  he  that  doubteth  is 
damned.  In  every  undertaking,  our  first  care 
should  be  to  have  a  clear  conscience.  Recti- 
tude is  a  sacred,  an  awful  thing,  and  as  its 
eternal  laws  should  never  be  despised  by 
open  and  deliberate  transgression,  so  the  very 
possibility  of  invading  them  by  rashness  and 
imprudence  should  fill  us  with  constant  vigil- 
ance and  unceasing  caution.  "  Ignorance  of 
duty,"  says  Jeremy  Taylor,  "is  always  a  sin, 
and  therefore,  when  we  are  in  a  perceived 
discernible  state  of  danger,  he  that  refuses  to 
inquire  after  his  duty,  does  not  desire  to  do 


238  FAITHFULNESS, 

it."  "We  enter  upon  danger  and  despise  our 
own  safety,  and  are  careless  of  our  duty,  and 
not  zealous  for  God,  nor  yet  subjects  of  con- 
science, or  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  if  we  do  not 
well  inquire  of  an  action  we  are  to  do,  wheth- 
er it  be  good  or  bad." 

To  him,  however,  who  has  been  rashly  en- 
snared I  would  solemnly  say — do  not  hesitate 
to  repent  of  your  engagement,  and  to  nip  the 
action  in  the  bud.  You  have  sinned  already. 
Do  not  double  the  offence  by  the  perpetration 
of  the  deed.  Let  no  fear  of  reproach,  no 
sense  of  self-degradation,  induce  you  to  par- 
ley with  the  crime.  You  have  come  too  near 
it  already.  Your  only  safety  is  in  instant  re- 
treat. If  you  have  betrothed  yourself  to  a 
harlot,  under  the  impression  that  she  was  a 
virgin,  flee  her  poisoned  embraces  as  soon  as 
you  find  out  her  pollution.  Never,  never  for 
an  instant  think  of  excusing  or  extenuating  a 
wrong,  because  you  have  been  implicated  in 
it.  The  moment  you  begin  to  debate  you 
have  soiled  the  purity  of  your  conscience. 


i  0  to  s . 

''Finally,  brethren,  whatsoever  things  are  true — think  on 

these  things." — Puy^ippiANs,  iv.  8. 

There  is  a  marked  difference 

DlbU.      V  1.  J  T         T-k 

between  Protestant  and  Rom- 
ish communions  in  their  estimate  of  the 
value  and  importance  of  vows  as  an  element 
of  religious  worship.  The  Church  of  Rome 
has  perverted  and  Protestants  have  neglected 
them.  The  will-worship  and  superstition 
fostered  by  the  one  have  produced  a  re-ac- 
tion to  the  opposite  extreme  in  the  other. 
In  this,  as  in  most  other  cases,  the  truth  lies 
in  moderation.  It  is  obvious  to  remark  that 
this  species  of  devotion  has  entered  into  all 
religions,  whether  Pagan,  Jewish,  or  Chris- 
tian. Wherever  God  and  Providence  have 
been  acknowledged,  there,  too,  have  been 
acknowledged  the  sanctity  of  oaths,  and  the 


240  vows. 

piety  of  vows.  A  form  of  worship  so  uni- 
versal must  be  founded  in  nature,  and  how- 
ever  it  may  have  been  corrupted  by  the  mix- 
ture of  false  doctrines,  or  perverted  by  igno- 
rance and  superstition,  there  must  be  some- 
thing in  it  wliich  is  consistent  with  reason, 
and  which  should  be  reclaimed  from  prosti- 
tution and  restored  to  its  right  place  among 
the  functions  of  the  religious  life.  I  have  no 
doubt  that,  as  in  the  Church  of  Rome,  the 
extravagant  commendation  of  supererogato- 
ry works,  which  are  productive  of  nothing 
but  pain  to  the  flesh,  and  vanity  and  pride 
to  the  spirit,  has  detracted  from  the  weight- 
ier matters  of  the  law,  and  degraded  piety 
from  obedience  to  God  to  the  punctilious 
observance  of  the  uncommanded  devices  of 
men ;  while  the  doctrine  of  vows  in  its  con- 
nection with  ^'a  show  of  wisdom  in  will- 
worship  and  humility,  and  neglecting  of 
the  body,"  has  practically  destroyed,  in  many 
instances,  all  real  piety  of  life ;  among  Pro- 
testants, on  the  other  hand,  the  general  inat- 
tention to  the  principle  which  has  made  the 


vows.  241 

vow  as  universal  as  the  oath,  has  prevented 
many  from  apprehending,  in  any  thing  like 
their  true  sacredness  and  interest,  the  peculiar 
obligations  of  religion.  Johnson's  horrour 
of  a  vow  is  well  known.  He  looked  upon 
it  as  nothing  but  a  snare  to  the  conscience, 
and  had  almost  said  that  he  who  could  not 
get  to  heaven  without  one,  deserved  not  to 
go  there  at  all. 

I  have  thought,  therefore,  that  it  would 
not  be  amiss  to  devote  a  little  more  attention 
to  this  subject  than  it  has  usually  received 
from  the  Protestant  Pulpit,  and  have  col- 
lected my  thoughts  under  the  heads  of  the 
nature,  uses,  and  obligation  of  vows. 

1.  First,  then,  a  vow  is  of  the  general 
nature  of  a  promise.  The  schoolmen  have 
discussed  the  question  whether  it  consists  es- 
sentially in  a  mere  purpose  of  the  will,  or 
whether  the  act  of  reason  which,  in  other 
instances,  transmutes  a  resolution  into  a 
promise  and  gives  it  its  binding  force,  must 
here  also  be  superinduced.     The   definition 

which  confounds  it  with  a  deliberate  and  firm 
11 


242  vows. 

resolution,  making  a  mere  conceptio  bom 
propositi  cum  animi  deliheratione  firmata, 
qua  quis  ad  aliquid  faciendum^  vel  non  fa- 
ciendum se  Deo  obligate  proceeds  on  the  as- 
sumption, that  the  only  importance  of  signi 
fication  in  ordinal  y  promises  is  to  make 
known  the  thoughts  and  intent  of  the  heart 
— ^that  if  men  could  read  the  purposes  of 
each  other  as  they  are  secretly  formed  in 
the  mind,  these  purposes  would  instantly 
create  obligations  and  impart  rights.  But 
this  is  obviously  a  mistake  ;  there  is  a  broad 
distinction  betwixt  a  purpose  and  a  promise. 
The  promise  is  the  child  of  the  purpose, 
but  there  must  be  a  father  to  beget  it. 
There  must  be  something  added  to  the  pur- 
pose before  it  can  bind  as  an  engagement.' 
The  intervening  act  by  which  a  purpose  is 
changed  is  an  ordination  of  the  reason  by 
which  the  purpose  is  voluntarily  made  the 
rule  or  law  of  a  future  thing  to  be  done  by 
ourselves.  The  promise  sustains  the  same 
relation  to  our  own  future  acts,  which  a  com- 
mand or  order  bears  to  the  acts  of  a  servant. 


vows.  243 

The  constituting  of  this  relation  is  essential 
to  obligation ;  it  is  explicitly  enounced  by 
signification  in  promises  among  men — it  is 
enough  that  it  exists  in  promises  to  God. 
This  act  or  ordination  of  reason  is  simply  the 
voluntary  determination  to  be  considered  as 
bound,  voluntas  se  ohligandi.  Where  this 
does  not  obtain  either  explicitly  or  implicitly, 
a  resolution  terminates  upon  ourselves,  and 
carries  no  other  duty  along  with  it  than  what 
is  essentially  involved  in  the  matter  of  it. 
Where  it  is  not  signified  there  is  no  promise ; 
where  it  does  not  exist,  no  vow.* 

2.  What  distinguishes  the  vow  from  every 
other  promise  is  the  party  to  whom  it  is 
made — God.  By  virtue  of  this  relation  it 
becomes  an  act  of  religious  worship,  and  par- 
takes, at  the  same  time,  of  the  nature  of  an 
oath.  He  takes  a  very  limited  view  of  what 
constitutes  the  worship  of  God,  who  restricts 
it  exclusively  to  those  exercises  of  prayer, 
praise,  or  thanksgiving,  which  are  specifically 
religious.      Our    whole    life  should   be   one 

*  Aquinas'  Summa.  2.  2.  quest.  88,  art.  1. 


244  V  o  w  s . 

great  instance  of  devotion.  It  is  the  end, 
the  intention,  or,  as  the  Schoolmen  phrase  it, 
the  ordination  of  it,  which  determines  the 
character  of  an  act ;  and  if  in  all  that  we 
do,  we  aim  at  the  glory  of  God,  "every 
action  of  nature  becomes  religious,"  every 
meal  an  instrument  of  piety,  every  ofi&ce  of 
ordinary  life  a  holy  oblation.  It  is  the  spirit 
and  temper  of  the  soul  which  settles  the 
question  of  worship.  A  cup  of  cold  water 
given  to  a  disciple  in  the  name  of  a  disci- 
ple is  not  simply  charity,  it  is  an  offering  ac- 
ceptable to  God.  As  in  the  vow  the  ordi- 
nation of  the  action  is  to  God,  whatever  may 
be  the  nature  of  the  thing  to  be  done,  wheth- 
er natural,  civil,  or  spiritual,  the  action  be- 
comes religious.  It  takes  its  denomination 
from  its  end.  The  writers  of  the  Romish 
Church  make  it  an  act  of  the  highest  relig- 
ious worship,  an  act  of  latria^  and  are  accord- 
ingly at  one  with  Protestants  in  affirming, 
that  vows  can  be  lawfully  made  to  God  only. 
This,  beyond  all  controversy,  is  the  doctrine 
of  the  Scriptures.     Hence  the  indignation  of 


vows.  246 

the  Lord  against  the  children  of  Israel  for 
making  vows  to  the  Queen  of  Heaven.  The 
crime  was  idolatry. 

But  a  vow  is  also  of  the  nature  of  an 
oath.  Although  primarily  it  respects  God 
simply  as  the  party  to  whom  a  promise  is 
made,  yet  secondarily,  in  consequence  of 
His  relations  to  the  creature,  it  must  also 
regard  Him  as  a  witness  and  a  judge.  The 
oath  is  a  solemn  invocation  of  God,  in  which 
His  name  is  made  the  guarantee  of  the 
truth  of  what  we  say,  or  in  case  of  false- 
hood, in  which  we  deliberately  abjure  His  fa- 
vour. We  suspend  our  claims  to  the  Di- 
vine protection  upon  our  veracity.  The  pe- 
culiarity of  its  sanction  is  the  reverence  for 
the  Divine  Being  upon  which  all  its  sacred- 
ness  depends.  Its  peculiar  guilt  consists  in 
taking  the  name  of  the  Lord  our  God  in 
vain.  All  this  is  obviously  implied  in  the 
vow ;  and  hence  it  may  be  compendiously 
defined  as  a  promissory  oath,  using  that 
phrase,  not  in  its  common  acceptation  as  a 
promise,  to  which  men  are  the  parties,  con- 


246  vows. 

firmed  by  an  oath,  but  as  a  promise  which 
is  at  the  same  time  an  oath.  The  Jews, 
accordingly,  were  accustomed  to  couple  im- 
precations with  their  vows ;  the  Psalmist  re- 
peatedly employs  terms  of  swearing  and  vow- 
ing as  synonymous  expressions. 

The  circumstance  that  it  is  God  with 
whom  we  have  to  deal  in  the  vow,  deter- 
mines at  once  the  nature  of  its  matter,  and 
the  spirit  or  temper  in  which  it  should  be 
made.  1.  Without  entering  into  the  frivo- 
lous discussions  of  the  Schoolmen  de  bono 
melior%  which  they  made  essential  to  the  va- 
lidity of  vows,  it  is  obvious  that  nothing  can 
legitimately  constitute  the  matter  of  our  en- 
gagements which  is  inconsistent  with  rever- 
ence for  His  name,  forbidden  by  His  word, 
hurtful  to  our  virtue,  or  beyond  our  strength 
of  nature  or  of  grace.  Such  oblations,  instead 
of  being  worship,  are  a  mockery.  I  would 
not  say,  the  common  doctrine  of  the  schools,* 

*  Vota  vero  quae  sunt  de  rebus  vanis  et  inutilibus,  sunt  magis 
deridenda  quam  servanda.  Aquinas  Sum.  2.  2.  quest.  88,  art.  2. 
Sanderson  in  his  little  treatise  de  Juraniento,  takes  the  view 
which  is  adopted  in  the  text. 


Y  o  w  s .  247 

that  light  and  frivolous  promises,  provided 
they  respected  things  that  were  not  essen- 
tially unlawful,  are  absolutely  null, — they,  no 
doubt,  bind  the  conscience;  but  I  will  say 
that  they  argue  a  contempt  of  God,  and 
that  it  is  utterly  unlawful  to  make  them. 
To  call  His  awful  name  upon  actions  that 
are  silly  and  ridiculous,  that  neither  in  them- 
selves nor  their  tendencies,  have  a  moral 
significancy,  is  a  crime  of  impiety  and  pro- 
fan  eness  which  is  even  as  the  sin  of  perjury. 
What  can  be  his  conception  of  God,  who 
approaches  the  terrible  majesty  with  absurd 
promises  to  walk  with  pebbles  in  his  shoes, 
to  stand  for  a  given  time  upon  a  single 
foot,  to  lie  in  a  particular  posture,  or  to  eat 
with  a  particular  implement,  and  imagines 
that  these  worse  than  childish  follies  are  ac- 
cepted as  proofs  of  extraordinary  piety. 
Verily  their  foolish  heart  is  darkened,  and 
they  have  changed  the  glory  of  the  incor- 
ruptible God  into  the  image  of  a  child, 
"pleased  with  a  rattle  and  tickled  with  a 
straw." 


248  vows. 

To  guard  against  profaneness  in  making 
vows,  let  the  following  cautions  in  relation  to 
the  matter  be  observed : 

1.  If  they  respect  an  act  which  is  specific- 
ally religious,  which  is  directly  and  immedi- 
ately and  not  merely  by  virtue  of  the  inten- 
tion, an  act  of  worship,  let  it  be  well  settled 
that  it  is  appointed  in  the  Word  of  God.  As 
it  is  the  prerogative  of  the  monarch  to  ordain 
the  ceremonial  of  his  court,  so  it  belongs  ex- 
clusively to  God  to  determine  by  what  ex- 
ternal observances  His  holy  name  shall  be 
honoured.  Nothing  is  more  offensive  or  in- 
sulting than  will-worship.  He  takes  such 
pleasure  in  obedience  "that  he  pronounces  a 
curse,"  says  Calvin,*  "on  all  acts  of  will- wor- 
ship, however  specious  and  splendid  they 
may  be  in  the  eyes  of  men.  If  God  abomi- 
nates all  voluntary  services  invented  by  us, 
without  his  command,  it  follows,  that  nothing 
can  be  acceptable  to  Him,  except  what  is  ap- 
pointed by  His  word.  Let  us  not,  therefore, 
assume  to  ourselves  such  a  great  liberty,  as  to 

*  Institutes.     Book  iv.  chap.  13. 


vows.  ^§ 

presume  to  vow  to  God  any  thing,  that  has  no 
testimony  of  His  approbation."  In  vain  do 
they  ivorsMp  we,  teaching  for  doctrines^  the 
commandments  of  men. 

2.  In  the  next  place,  if  the  vow  respects 
any  other  act,  let  us  be  certain  that  the  act  is 
either  the  elicit  or  imperate  one  of  some  vir- 
tue— that  is — that  it  consists  in  doing  some- 
thing positively  commanded,  or  avoiding 
something  positively  forbidden,  or  in  making 
that  which  is  naturally  indifferent  conduce  to 
our  improvement.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
about  the  lawfulness  of  engagements  to  per- 
form our  duty,  or  to  abstain  from  sin.  All 
elicit  acts  of  virtue .  are  clearly  within  the 
scope  of  a  vow.  But  the  case  is  not  as  plain 
when  it  comes  to  the  curtailment  of  Christian 
liberty.  That  should  not  be  done  except  to 
save  ourselves  from  temptation,  or  others 
from  offence.  When  an  indifferent  thing,  by 
being  specially  sanctified  to  God,  can  promote 
my  own  piety,,  or  the  piety  of  others,  it  seems 
to  me  that  it  can  legitimately  constitute  the 

matter  of  a  vow.     Liberty  is  then  used  for 
11* 


260  V  o  w  s . 

the  glory  of  God,  and  the  use  of  it  is  mani- 
festly consistent  with  His  will.  In  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Schools,  it  becomes  a  great- 
er good.  This  is  the  doctrine  of  Thomas 
Aquinas.*  "  Maceration  of  one's  own  body," 
says  he,  ''  by  vigils  and  fasts,  for  example,  is 
not  accepted  of  God,  except  in  so  far  as  it  is 
a  work  of  virtue — that  is,  in  so  far  as  it  is 
done  with  proper  discretion  for  the  purpose  of 
restraining  concupiscence  without  too  much 
inconvenience  to  nature."  The  same  is  the 
doctrine  of  Calvin.  "If  a  person,"  says  he, 
"  has  fallen  into  any  crime  through  the  vice 
of  intemperance,  nothing  prevents  him  from 
correcting  that  vice  by  ja  temporary  renuncia- 
tion of  all  delicacies,  and  enforcing  this  ab- 
stinence by  a  vow,  to  lay  himself  under  the 
stronger  obligation."  "  Yet,"  he  adds,  "  I 
impose  no  perpetual  law  on  those  who  have 
been  guilty  of  such  an  offence :  I  only  point 
out  what  they  are  at  liberty  to  do,  if  they 


*  Summa,  2,  2,  Quest.  88.  Art.  2.  See,  also,  Bishop  Hall. 
Cases  of  Conscience.  Decade  iii.,  case  4.  Bishop  Eeynolds  on 
Hosea. 


vowa.  251 

think  that  such  a  vow  would  be  useful  to 
them.  I  consider  a  vow  of  this  kind,  there- 
fore, as  lawful,  but,  at  the  same  time,  left  to 
the  free  choice  of  every  individual." 

3.  The  matter  of  a  vow  should,  further,  be 
something  clearly  in  our  own  power,  either 
according  to  the  strength  of  nature,  or  the 
promises  of  grace.  In  the  case  of  command- 
ed duties,  or  prohibited  sins,  we  can  throw 
ourselves  upon  the  everlasting  covenant,  and 
should  make  all  our  engagements  in  humble 
reliance  upon  its  provisions.  But  in  uncom- 
manded  instances,  we  should  measure  our 
ability  before  we  venture  to  assume  so  solemn 
an  obligation.  The  aids  of  grace  will  be  im- 
parted, only  in  so  far  as  may  be  conducive  to 
God's  glory ;  and  as  the  circumstances  which 
to-day  justify  a  particular  use  of  liberty  may 
change  to-morrow,  no  man  can  contract  any 
permanent  obligations,  in  regard  to  these 
things,  in  dependencQ  upon  God's  help.  He 
has  no  promise  to  justify  such  faith.  Vows 
of  this  class,  therefor^,  should  always  be 
temporary ;  othe  rwise  th^y  become  a  tempta^^ 


tion  and  a  snare.  To  illustrate  my  meaning, 
there  may  be  a  conjuncture  of  circumstances 
which  render  it  highly  inexpedient  at  one 
time  for  a  man  to  marry.  It  may,  subse- 
quently, by  a  change  in  his  condition,  be  as 
evidently  his  duty  to  do  so.  If,  now,  he  had 
contracted  a  vow  of  perpetual  celibacy,  he 
has  engaged  to  do  what  he  is  not  sure  that  he 
shall  have  strength  to  perform,  and  what  God 
has  nowhere  promised  to  enable  him  to  do. 
The  Lord  has  commanded  chastity,  and  all 
His  people  may  rely  upon  His  grace  to  pre- 
serve them  from  uncleanness.  But  chastity  is 
not  virginity ;  the  wife  is  as  pure  as  the  virgin 
— the  husband  as  chaste  as  the  eunuch.  We 
dare  not,  therefore,  pledge  ourselves  to  per- 
petual continence,  when  it  may  be  that  God 
designs  to  protect  our  purity  by  the  holy 
estate  of  wedlock.  This  is  the  class  of  vows 
which  entangle  the  conscience — those  which 
relate  to  matters  of  indifference,  that  only  par- 
take of  the  character  of  virtue  in  the  way  of 
accident.  Hence  the  advice  of  Taylor,  "  Let 
not  young  beginners  in  religion  enlarge  their 


vows.  258 

hearts  and  straiten  their  liberty  by  vows  of 
long  continuance;  nor  indeed  can  any  one 
else  without  a  great  experience  of  himself, 
and  of  all  accidental  dangers.  Yows  of  single 
actions  are  safest,  and  proportionable  to  those 
single  blessings,  ever  begged  in  such  cases  of 
sudden  and  transient  importunities." 

The  matter  of  one  class  of  vow^s  is  the  con- 
secration of  a  person  or  thing  to  the  service 
and  glory  of  God.  The  thing  to  be  done 
is  the  renunciation  of  all  rights  of  property 
on  our  part  and  the  devotion  of  the  object, 
whatever  it  may  be,  to  the  service  and  glory 
of  God.  Such  was  Hannah's  vow.  "  And 
she  vowed  a  vow  and  said.  Oh  Lord  of  Hosts, 
if  thou  wilt  indeed  look  on  the  affliction  of 
thine  handmaid,  and  remember  me  and  not 
forget  thine  handmaid,  and  will  give  unto 
thine  handmaid  a  man  child,  then  will  I  give 
him  unto  the  Lord  all  the  days  of  his  life,  and 
there  shall  no  razor  come  upon  his  head." 
Such  also  was  Jacob's  vow — he  consecrated 
the  stone  and  the  tithes  to  the  Lord.  "  And 
Jacob  vowed  a  vow,  saying,  if  God  will  be 


254:  vows. 

with  me  and  keep  me  in  the  way  that  I  go, 
and  will  give  me  bread  to  eat  and  raiment  to 
put  on,  so  that  I  come  again  to  my  father's 
house  in  peace,  then  shall  the  Lord  be  my 
God,  and  this  stone  which  I  have  set  for  a 
pillar  shall  be  God's  house,  and  of  all  that 
thou  shalt  give  me,  I  will  surely  give  the 
tenth  unto  thee."  These  are  what  Calvin 
calls  vows  of  thanksgiving.  He  finds  "  other 
examples  of  them  in  the  ancient  peace-offer- 
ings, which  used  to  be  vowed  by  pious  kings 
and  generals  entering  on  just  wars,  to  be  of- 
fered in  case  they  should  obtain  the  victory ; 
or  by  persons  labouring  under  more  than 
common  difficulties,  in  case  the  Lord  would 
deliver  them.  Thus  we  are  to  understand  all 
those  places  in  the  Psalms  which  speak  of 
vows.  Yows  of  this  kind  may  also  be  now 
used  among  us,  whenever  God  delivers  us 
from  any  great  calamity,  from  a  severe  dis- 
ease, or  from  any  other  danger.  For  on  such 
occasions  it  is  not  inconsistent  with  the  duty 
of  a  pious  man  to  consecrate  to  God  some 
oblation    that    he   has   vowed,    merely   as   a 


V  o  w  s .  255 

solemn  token  of  grateful  acknowledgement, 
that  he  may  not  appear  unthankful  for  his 
goodness."  Such,  it  may  be  added,  is  the 
vow  implied  in  the  very  nature  of  the  Chris- 
tian profession.  A  man  yields  himself  to  God 
a  living  sacrifice — he  is  sanctified  to  the  di- 
vine service  and  glory,  renounces  all  right  of 
property  in  himself,  and  dedicates  his  faculties 
and  members  as  instruments  of  righteousness 
unto  holiness.  Such  also  is  a  good  man's  con- 
secration of  his  children  to  the  Lord ;  they  are 
devoted — and  he  feels  that  he  has  no  more 
right  to  train  them  for  merely  secular  ends, 
than  an  ancient  Jew  had  to  use  the  vessels  of 
the  sanctuary  for  the  ordinary  purposes  of 
life.  It  is  nothing  less  than  sacrilege  to  treat 
them  in  any  other  way  than  as  holy  to  the 
Lord.  The  vow  of  personal  consecration 
made  in  baptism,  is  repeated  in  every  recep- 
tion of  the  Lord's  Supper.  The  sacraments 
are  seals  of  a  covenant  by  which  God  certifies 
His  promises  to  us,  and  by  which  we  solemn- 
ly pledge  an  absolute  allegiance  to  Him. 
Every  Christian  man,  therefore,  can  justly  ap- 


256  vows. 

propriate  the  language  of  David  with  all  the 
comfort  and  consolation  it  imparts,  ''thy 
vows  are  upon  me,  Oh  God,"  and  with  the 
Apostle  he  rejoices  that  he  is  not  his  own,  but 
is  bought  with  a  price. 

II.  Having  sufficiently  indicated  the  nature 
of  vows,  I  proceed  to  the  question  of  their 
use.  Is  it,  or  is  not  expedient  to  make  them  ? 
Of  course  the  discussion  must  be  confined 
to  those  which  are  lawful  and  proper,  which 
are  consistent  with  the  will  of  God,  not  rashly 
made  nor  disproportioned  to  our  powers. 

There  is  but  little  force  in  the  objections, 
in  so  far  as  such  vows  are  concerned,  that 
they  curtail  our  liberty,  multiply  temptations, 
and  are  without  warrant  from  the  example  of 
Christ  and  His  Apostles.  There  is  no  abridg- 
ment of  liberty  in  strengthening  the  bonds 
of  duty,  no  necessary  peril  in  what  nothing 
but  depravity  can  convert  into  an  instrument 
of  sin,  and  no  reflection  upon  Christ,  whose 
whole  life  was  a  vow,  nor  upon  the  Apostles, 
who  were  body  and  soul  devoted  to  the 
work   of   the    Lord.     That    is    not   freedom 


vows.  257 

which  absolves  from  obligation,  that  is  not  a 
snare  which  is  only  made  so  by  our  volun- 
tary neglect,  and  that  is  not  unchristian, 
which  aims  at  the  perfection  of  Christian  life. 
The  truth  is,  the  whole  question  concerning 
the  utility  of  vows  turns  upon  the  spirit  and 
temper  in  which  they  are  made.  They  have 
no  absolute  eflficacy  in  themselves;  there  is 
no  charm  by  which  the  mere  making  of  them 
shall  be  an  instrument  of  good.  All  depends 
upon  the  state  of  mind,  the  purpose  and  ends 
with  which  they  are  made.  Here,  as  in  every 
thing  else,  the  maxim  of  the  Apostle  holds 
good,  whatsoever  is  not  of  faith  is  sin. 

1.  If  vows  are  made  in  the  spirit  of  bribes, 
if  they  proceed  from  low  and  degrading 
thoughts  of  the  God-head,  and  are  presented 
as  inducements  which  have  an  intrinsic  value 
in  the  court  of  Heaven,  they  are  insults  to 
Him  and  injuries  to  us.  God  maintains  no 
intercourse  of  barter  and  traffic  with  His 
creatures,  and  those  who  look  upon  His  cov- 
enants as  the  interchange  of  reciprocal  ben- 
efits, are  puffed  up  with  pride,  and  have  al- 


268  vows. 

ready  fallen  into  the  condemnation  of  the 
Devil.  All  things  come  of  Him  and  it  is 
only  of  His  own  that  we  can  give  Him. 

2.  In  the  next  place,  those  who  look  upon 
vows  as  instances  of  extraordinary  merit, 
eviscerate  them  of  all  their  tendencies  to 
good.  There  is  no  righteousness  but  in  obe- 
dience to  God,  and  as  the  vow  is  only  an  ac- 
knowledgement of  duty,  coupled  with  a  fixed 
resolution  to  perform  it,  there  is  nothing 
more  in  it  than  the  honesty  of  a  debtor,  who 
admits  the  debt  and  makes  arrangements  to 
discharge  it.  So  far  are  those  vows  which  re- 
spect uncommanded  instances  from  possess- 
ing extraordinary  merit,  that  the  sole  merit 
or  moral  excellence  which  belongs  to  them 
is  derivative  and  secondary,  it  springs  from 
their  relation  to  commanded  duties.  They 
are  the  merest  puerilities  except  as  they  are 
ordained  to  the  ends  of  virtue.  They  become 
lawful  only  when  they  are  assumed  as  the  in- 
struments or  means  of  enforcing  prime  obli- 
gations. They  are  like  the  ancient  phylac- 
teries memorials  of  duty   rather  than  duties 


vows.  259 

themselves.  To  treat  them,  therefore,  as 
proofs  of  extraordinary  righteousness,  is  to 
reverse  the  relation  of  means  and  end,  and  to 
substitute  the  sign  for  the  thing  signified. 
He  that  enters  into  engagements  of  this  sort, 
with  the  secret  feeling  that  he  is  pleasing 
the  Lord  of  Hosts  with  the  display  of  un- 
wonted zeal,  may  expect  the  confounding 
rebuke  that  "  obedience  is  better  than  sac- 
rifice, and  to  hearken  than  the  fat  of  rams." 
It  is  the  preposterous  notion  that  there  is 
something  more  than  God  requires,  a 
righteousness  of  supererogation,  in  these  in- 
stances of  vows,  that  has  corrupted  the 
whole  subject,  and  made  it  stink  in  the  nos- 
trils of  humble  piety.  This  dead  fly  has  pol- 
luted the  whole  box  of  ointment.  The  Di- 
vine law  is  the  standard  of  moral  perfection, 
and  nothing  is  good  which  does  not  express 
the  spirit  and  temper  of  this  perfect  standard. 
There  is  no  going  beyond  it ;  there  may  be 
a  fearful  falling  short  of  it.  Whatev  jr  expe- 
dients we  employ  to  impress  this  law  upon 
the  conscience  and  to  engrave  it  in  the  very 


260  vows. 

texture  of  the  will,  they  are  good  or  other- 
wise, according  to  their  tendencies  to  secure 
the  result.  The  man  is  righteous  or  un- 
righteous, holy  or  sinful,  according  as  his 
heart  is  in  union  and  sympathy  with  the 
holy  commandment.  The  effect  of  exalting 
supererogatory  observances  above  simple  obe- 
dience, and  treating  him  pre-eminently  as  a 
saint,  whatever  may  be  the  general  temper 
and  disposition  of  his  mind,  who  excels  in  as- 
cetic devotions,  has  been  to  degrade  religion 
from  its  noble  eminence  as  a  reasonable  ser- 
vice to  the  emptiest  show  of  fooleries.  Yows 
conceived  in  such  a  spirit  are  as  fatal  to  pros- 
perity as  the  mildew  or  pestilence.  They 
are  a  high  conspiracy  against  heaven,  an  im- 
pious and  daring  attempt  to  reverse  the 
order  which  God  has  established,  and  to 
make  His  will  subordinate  and  secondary 
to  the  little  contrivances  of  man.  It  is 
to  subvert  morality  and  to  convert  religion 
into  superstition.  Hence,  Taylor  in  his  Holy 
Living,  in  order  to  obviate  this  tendency  to 
pervert  th^  vow   into  will-worship,  has  very 


Vv.  .vs.  261 

reasonably  advised,  ''that  every  vow  of  a 
new  action  be  also  accompanied  with  a  new 
degree  and  enforcement  of  our  essential  and 
unalterable  duty.  Such  was  Jacob's  vow,  that 
(besides  the  payment  of  a  tithe)  God  should 
be  his  God,  that  so  he  might  strengthen  his 
duty  to  Him,  first  in  essentials  and  precepts, 
and  then  in  additional  and  accidentals.  For 
it  is  but  an  ill  tree  that  spends  more  in  leaves 
and  suckers  and  gums  than  in  fruit ;  and  that 
thankfulness  and  religion  is  best  that  first 
secures  duty  and  then  enlarges  in  counsels." 

3.  Vows  that  are  made  in  conformity  with 
the  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  with  proper  views  of 
the  majesty  and  goodness  of  God  and  of 
the  weakness  and  ill-desert  of  man,  made  in 
faith  and  as  the  honest  expressions  of  sincere 
worship,  are  undoubted  helps  to  piety.  These 
are  not  the  vows  which  become  hinderances 
and  snares. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  they  obviously 
strengthen  the  general  bonds  of  duty.  They 
consecrate  the  offices  of  life.  They  dif- 
fuse  the    influence    and   savour  of   the   Di- 


262  V  c  w  s . 

vine  name  around  moral  and  civil  observ- 
ances, and  attach  the  sacredness  of  religion  to 
every  thing  which  they  touch.  The  vow  in- 
troduces a  new  sanction,  and  the  sanction 
which  of  all  others  is  dearest  to  the  Chris- 
tian heart,  reverence  for  the  glory  of  God. 
It  pronounces  the  Divine  name,  and  makes 
that  to  be  specifically  religious  which  before 
was  only  natural  or  civil,  and  thus  superin- 
duces what  Augustin  calls  a  "  blessed  neces- 
sity to  good."  It  confirms  the  will  by  a  direct 
sense  of  the  majesty  and  holiness  of  God. 
It  is,  indeed,  the  general  spirit  of  religion 
concentrated  on  a  single  act.  As  the  pe- 
culiar motive  of  the  vow  is  reverence  for 
God,  it  is  manifest  that  every  instance  of 
fidelity  strengthens  the  principle  until  it  is 
matured  into  the  stability  of  habit. 

2.  In  the  next  place,  vows  are  conducive 
to  piety  by  increasing  the  sense  of  union  with 
God.  They  keep  alive  the  consciousness  that 
we  are  His,  and  that  He  is  ours.  David, 
when  overwhelmed  by  afflictions  and  op- 
pressed   by   dangers,    often    established    his 


vows. 

heart  with  the  reflection  that  the  vows  of  his 
God  were  upon  him.  The  feeling  Avas  that 
God  had  a  peculiar  interest  in  him  as  one 
devoted  to  His  service,  and  that  the  Deity 
was  not  likely  to  abandon  His  own  property 
as  a  spoil  to  men  of  violence  and  blood. 
We  kee23  aloof  from  the  throne  of  grace 
when  we  distrust  our  right  to  be  found 
there  ;  nearness  of  access  is  in  proportion  to 
the  feeling  of  intimacy  betwixt  God  and  the 
creature.  It  is  precisely  this  feeling  which 
the  vow  cherishes.  This  is  eminently  the 
case  with  that  general  vow  of  consecration, 
which  is  involved  in  the  very  notion  of  the 
Christian  profession ;  its  language  is,  my  be- 
loved is  mine  and  I  am  his.  We  know  that 
God  careth  for  His  own,  and  in  proportion 
as  we  cherish  the  conviction  that  we  belong 
to  Him,  will  be  the  frequency  of  our  ap- 
proaches to  His  seat,  and  the  strength  of  our 
reliance  on  His  name.  It  is  the  prerogative 
of  faith  to  appropriate  God  and  the  promises 
of  the  covenant ;  and  whatever  has  a  ten- 
dency to  increase  the  feeling  of  propriety,  re- 


264  vows. 

acts  upon  faith  and  strengthens  that  very  fea- 
ture of  it,  by  which  it  is  made  the  instrument 
at  once  of  comfort  and  of  growth  in  grace. 
There  is  no  privilege,  no  exaltation  of  bless- 
edness comparable  with  that,  by  which  a  sin- 
ner is  permitted  to  avouch  the  Lord  to  be 
his  God.  Every  thing  of  good,  whether  for 
this  world,  or  that  which  is  to  come,  is  em- 
braced in  the  compendious  declaration,  I  will 
be  a  God  to  thee  and  to  thy  seed  after  thee. 
The  vow  corresponds  to  this  promise,  and 
presents  the  man  as  an  oblation  to  the  Lord, 
holy  and  acceptable  through  Jesus  Christ. 
It  is  an  exercise  of  faith  which  strengthens 
faith. 

3.  In  the  third  place,  vows  in  exercising 
specific  virtues  contribute  to  the  habit  of 
them,  and  through  the  intimate  connection 
which  obtains  among  them,  fortifies  the  gen- 
eral principle  of  integrity.  Calvin  recog- 
nises four  ends  to  which  our  vows  may  be 
rightly  directed,  two  referring  to  the  past 
and  two  to  the  future.  "  To  the  time  past 
belong  those  vows  by  which  we  either  testify 


vows.  265 

our  gratitude  to  God  for  benefits  received,  or 
in  order  to  deprecate  His  wrath,  inflict  pun- 
ishment upon  ourselves  for  sins  we  have  com- 
mitted. The  former  may  be  called  vows  of 
thanksgiving  ;  the  latter  vows  of  penitence." 
The  vows  which  he  refers  to  the  future 
''have  for  their  object,  partly  to  render  us 
more  cautious  of  danger,  partly  to  stimulate 
us  to  the  performance  of  duty."  It  cannot 
be  denied  that  whatever  strengthens  the  sen- 
timent of  gratitude,  or  reminds  us  of  our  own 
guilt  and  unworthiness,  whatever  guards  us 
against  future  temptations  or  arms  us  for  fu- 
ture conflict,  is  of  no  mean  utility  to  the  Di- 
vine life.  The  stronger  the  tie  which  binds 
us  to  God  and  duty  the  better.  If  a  man 
honestly  aims  at  the  Divine  glory,  and  his 
own  spiritual  improvement,  if  his  heart  is 
right,  the  solemn  bonds  of  a  vow  will  co-op- 
erate mightily  with  the  ordinary  sanctions  of 
law.  The  precept  binds  by  its  native  force, 
the  obligation  is  sweetened  when  a  man 
chooses  it  by  a  free  act,  and  re-writes  it  upon 

his  conscience.     The  vow  becomes  an  addi- 
12 


266  vows. 

tional  security  for  obedience,  and  every  in- 
stance of  fidelity  is  an  instance  of  moral  prog 
ress.  To  the  conscientious  man,  a  vow  is  a 
monitor,  a  heavenly  mentor,  constantly  at  his 
side,  and  when  the  flesh  would  plead  and  re- 
monstrate, it  gently  whispers,  "  Remember  that 
this  duty  has  been  made  your  choice.  Your 
vow  did  not  create  the  obligation,  although 
in  uncommanded  instances  it  gave  a  specific 
consent,  but  already  existing,  your  vow  ac- 
cepted it,  and  accepted  it  as  a  good." 

The  truth  is,  all  the  objections  that  can  be 
justly  urged  against  the  benefit  of  vows,  ap- 
ply only  to  that  class  of  them  which  are  rash 
and  imprudent,  which  are  either  ofiensive  in 
matter,  or  relate  to  acts  which  we  have  no 
warrant  for  assuming  an  obligation  to  per- 
form. 

Still,  I  am  far  from  thinking  that  vows 
should  be  niade  common.  To  make  them 
common  is  to  cheapen  them,  to  reduce  them 
to  the  level  of  ordinary  obligations ;  and 
when  this  process  is  once  begun,  the  next 
step  will  be  to  deny  the  reality  of  all  obliga- 


vows.  267 

tions  which  have  not  been  self-imposed. 
Human  nature  is  a  weak  thing,  and  as  its 
tendency  is  to  run  into  extremes,  it  would 
be  nothing  strange  that  it  should  oscillate 
from  the  point  of  highest  reverence  for 
a  vow  to  that  of  comparative  contempt. 
What  I  insist  on  is,  that  the  vow  is  an  act 
of  solemn  religious  worship ;  that  it  is  of 
the  nature  of  an  oath,  and  that,  when  prop- 
erly used  for  proper  ends  and  on  proper  oc- 
casions, it  is  eminently  conducive  to  virtue. 
It  loses  its  efficacy,  however,  just  as  the 
oath  does,  if  made  the  ordinary  form  of  Chris- 
tian obedience.  It  should  be  reserved  for 
extraordinary  occasions,  when  we  wish  to 
erect  a  monument  to  God's  goodness,  or  a 
memorial  ^of  our  own  shame,  or  to  begin  a 
new  epoch  in  the  Christian  life.  Familiarity 
here,  as  in  the  case  of  the  oath,  is  destructive 
of  reverence.  There  is  a  marked  difference 
between  the  questions  whether  the  vow,  as  an 
extraordinary  act  of  worship,  that  is,  in  its 
true  character  and  relations,  or  as  an  ordina- 
ry act  of  worship,  that  is,  perverted  from  its 


2!^  vows. 

true  character  and  relations,  is  of  beneficial 
tendency.  No  one  can  be  more  deeply 
sensible  than  I  am  that  the  consequences  of 
turning  every  duty  into  a  vow,  are  pernicious 
in  the  extreme.  It  proceeds  from  a  weak 
and  superstitious  spirit,  and  if  permitted  to 
operate  without  check,  vsrill  multiply  scru- 
ples until  it  converts  religion  into  torture. 
The  abuse  of  vows  consists  in  their  fre- 
quency.  Let  that  be  guarded  against,  and 
they  can  certainly  be  turned  to  a  good  ac- 
count. The  occasions  on  which  they  should 
be  resorted  to,  every  man  must  determine  for 
himself  His  own  heart  is  the  best  expository 
of  extraordinary  circumstances  in  his  own 
life.  He  knows  its  critical  points,  the  events 
which  have  given  shape  and  direction  to  his 
history  and  have  left  their  mark  upon  his 
character. 

III.  The  next  point  to  be  discussed  is  the 
obligation  of  vows.  The  fact  of  their  obli- 
gation is,  of  course,  not  disputed.  The  con- 
victions of  every  heart  coincide  here  with 
the  positive  declarations  of  Scripture  :  "When 


vows.  269 

thou  shalt  vow  a  vow  unto  the  Lord  thy 
God,  thou  shalt  not  be  slack  to  pay  it: 
for  the  Lord  thy  God  will  surely  require 
it  of  thee,  and  it  would  be  sin  in  thee.  That 
which  is  gone  out  of  thy  lips,  thou  shalt 
keep  and  perform :  even  a  free-will  offer- 
ing, according  as  thou  hast  vowed  unto  the 
Lord  thy  God,  which  thou  hast  promised 
with  thy  mouth."  "When  thou  vowest  a 
vow  unto  God,  defer  not  to  pay  it ;  for 
He  hath  no  pleasure  in  fools.  Pay  that  which 
thou  hast  vowed.  Better  is  it  that  thou 
shouldst  not  vow,  than  that  thou  shouldst 
vow  and  not  pay."  "Yow  and  pay  unto 
the  Lord  your  God."  But  while  the  fact 
is  clear,  the  immediate  grounds  of  the 
obligation  are  not  directly  stated,  though 
they  are  implicitly  assumed. 

I  cannot  forbear  to  notice  how  completely 
the  theory  of  Dr.  Paley,  in  regard  to  the 
obligation  of  promises,  breaks  down  in  its 
application  to  vows.  He  was  perfectly  con- 
scious of  it,  and  frankly  confesses  it,  and  yet 
it  seems  to  have  raised  no  sort  of  misgiv* 


270  V  o  w  s . 

ings  as  to  the  soundness  of  his  principles. 
It  is  clear  that  whatever  is  the  formal  cause 
of  the  obligation  of  a  promise  as  such,  must 
extend  to  every  promise ;  the  whole  essence 
must  be  found  in  the  species.  The  produc- 
tion of  a  case,  therefore,  in  which  a  prom- 
ise really  exists,  and  yet  is  not  binding  upon 
the  given  ground,  is  conclusive  evidence 
that  the  ground  in  question  is  not  the  formal 
cause  of  obligation  in  any  promise.  Falsus 
in  uno^  falsus  in  omnibus.^  We  are  shut  up  to 
the  admission,  either  that  there  is  no  specific 
reason  in  the  case,  or  that  Dr.  Paley's  theory 
is  false — either  no  promise  is  obligatory,  be- 
cause it  is  a  promise,  or  Dr.  Paley  has  failed 
to  indicate  why  any  is  obligatory.  Listen  to 
his  naive  confession  :  "  Yows  are  promises  to 
God.  The  obligation  cannot  be  made  out 
upon  the  same  principle  as  that  of  other 
promises.  The  violation  of  them,  neverthe- 
less, implies  a  want  of  reverence  to  the  Su- 
preme Being ;  which  is  enough  to  make  it  sin- 
ful." Vows  are  promises,  but  they  do  not 
oblige  because  they  are  promises.     There  can 


vows.  271 

be  no  deception  in  the  case,  and  consequent- 
ly no  breach  of  confidence  reposed;  which 
makes  it  so  important  to  keep  other  promises. 
But  though  not  binding  as  promises,  they  are 
still  to  be  kept,  because  a  breach  of  them  im- 
plies a  want  of  reverence  for  the  Supreme 
Being.  But  how  does  this  want  of  reverence 
appear  ?  If  there  was  nothing  sacred  in  the 
vow,  considered  as  a  promise,  if  it  carried  no 
obligation  or  enjoined  no  duty,  if  it  were  a 
mere  moral  nullity,  where  is  the  want  of  rev- 
erence to  be  found?  Did  not  Dr.  Paley  feel 
in  penning,  and  does  not  every  reader  feel  in 
perusing  these  lines,  that  it  is  precisely  be- 
cause the  vow  is  binding  as  a  promise,  that 
the  violation  of  it  casts  contempt  upon  God. 
Such  inconsistencies  and  contradictions  result 
from  partial  schemes  of  philosophy,  and  this 
is  one  among  the  thousand  that  might  be  pro- 
duced, that  convicts  the  system  of  expediency, 
as  expounded  by  Dr.  Paley,  of  gross  and 
flagrant  falsehood.  Of  all  philosophies  it  is 
the  most  shallow  and  superficial,  and  its  prin- 
cipal recommendation    is   to   simple    minds, 


272  vows. 

whom  it  flatters  with  the  belief  that  they  ai'e 
possessed  of  principles,  without  the  labour  of 
patient  thought. 

The  true  ground  of  the  obligation  of  vows 
is  very  easily  explained.  We  have  but  to  re- 
cur to  the  definition — a  promise  made  to  God 
— or  a  promise,  which  is,  at  the  same  time,  an 
oath.  As  a  promise  it  is  obligatory  from  the 
two-fold  considerations  of  truth  and  justice 
which  have  been  already  explained.  God  is 
a  person,  and  we  may  maintain  relations  to 
Him  analogous  to  those  which  subsist  among 
men.  We  can  give  Him  of  His  own.  The 
notion  is  preposterous  that  our  engagements 
to  the  Almighty  do  not  give  Him  a  covenant- 
ed right  to  exact  obedience  at  our  hands. 
He  does  not  deal  with  us  as  things.  In  mak- 
ing us  originally  in  His  own  glorious  image. 
He  stamped  it  upon  us  as  the  prerogative  of 
our  nature  to  be  persons,  and  in  conformity 
with  this  high  distinction.  He  conducts  all  the 
dispensations  of  His  providence  towards  us. 
We  are  always  treated  by  Him  as  persons. 
We  are  not  tools  and  instruments,  but  con- 


vows.  278 

scious  and  responsible  agents,  capable  of  giv- 
ing and  receiving  rights.  Hence  the  relation 
of  justice,  pre-eminently  a  personal  relation  in 
our  intercourse  with  Him,  as  well  as  with  one 
another.  And  although  the  cattle  upon  a 
thousand  hills  are  His,  and  He  has  no  need  of 
our  sacrifices  and  offerings ;  though  we  our- 
selves belong  to  Him,  and  all  that  we  have 
and  are,  yet  He  condescends  to  accept  at  our 
hands  what  is  our  own  by  a  free  donation 
from  Himself  He  permits  us  to  transfer  to 
Him  such  rights  as  we  have,  and  even  repre- 
sents Himself,  all  blessed  though  He  be,  as 
injured  by  faithless  dealings  on  our  part. 
Hence  the  Scriptures  do  not  hesitate  to  speak 
of  Him  as  wronged,  robbed,  defrauded.  The 
very  passages  which  inculcate  the  faithful  ob- 
servance of  a  vow,  put  it  distinctly  on  the 
ground  of  justice — it  is  the  payment  of  a 
debt.  If  Dr.  Paley  had  apprehended  the  es- 
sential rectitude  of  truth  and  justice,  he 
would  have  seen  the  folly  of  resolving  the  ob- 
ligation of  promises  into  the  inconveniences 

of  deceit,  and  would  have  been  saved  his  em- 
12* 


274  vows. 

barrassment  in  the  awkward  effort  to  make 
infidelity  to  God  a  sin.  A  rustic  could  have 
told  him,  "  I  must  fulfil  my  vow  because  my 
word  is  out,  and  God  has  a  right  to  expect  it 
of  me." 

But  a  vow  also  partakes  of  the  nature  of  an 
oath ;  this  is  its  specific  difference.  And  while 
it  binds  as  a  promise  upon  the  grounds  of 
truth  and  justice,  it  binds  as  an  oath  upon  the 
principle  of  reverence  for  God.  He  that 
keeps  a  vow  is  not  only  just,  but  pious — ^he 
that  breaks  it,  is  not  only  guilty  of  injustice, 
but  perjury.  Hence  the  enormous  malignity 
of  the  sin.  The  Word  of  God,  as  well  as  the 
common  consent  of  all  civilized  nations,  has 
attributed  the  highest  degree  of  sanctity  to 
the  oath,  and  he  that  is  not  held  by  it  has 
cut  loose  from  all  moral  obligations.  He  that 
has  no  reverence  for  the  awful  name  of  God, 
has  severed  the  last  tie  which  binds  him  to 
truth.  He  is  an  outlaw  in  the  universe — a 
star  of  disastrous  omen  that  has  broken  be- 
yond the  attraction  of  its  central  sun,  and 
must  be  left  to  pursue  its  course  unchecked 


vows.  275 

by  the  only  power  that  could  keep  it  in  its 
orbit.  Nultum  vinculum  ad  astringendam 
fidem^  says  Cicero,  ma/jores  nostri  jure-juran- 
do  arctius  esse  voluerunt.  And  the  highest 
authority  has  assured  us  that  the  Lord  will 
not  hold  him  guiltless  that  taketh  His  name  in 
vain.  So  sacred  were  oaths  esteemed  among 
the  ancient  Romans,  that  they  needed  no  pro- 
tection from  law.  The  perjured  man  was 
simply  exposed  by  the  Censor,  and  that  was 
enough.  The  brand  of  infamy  was  upon  him, 
and  like  the  taint  of  leprosy,  debarred  him 
from  the  fellowship  of  his  species,  and  left 
him  to  the  vengeance  of  the  insulted  God.  • 

And  yet  what  gives  to  perjury  its  maligni- 
ty above  a  common  lie — and  it  is  a  thought 
which  I  would  earnestly  impress  upon  the 
youthful  mind — is  perhaps  the  most  common 
of  all  the  sins  that  are  daily  committed — it  is 
want  of  reverence  for  God.  The  oath  or  vow 
breaker  carries  it  to  the  point  of  positive  con- 
tempt. He  openly  defies  that  august  and 
terrible  majesty  before  which  angels  bow  and 
arch-angels  veil  their  faces.     It  is  a  sin,  the 


276  vows. 

enormity  of  which  the  imagination  cannot 
conceive,  because  no  thought  can  compass  the 
infinite  excellence  of  Him,  whose  prerogative 
it  is  to  be,  who  sits  upon  the  circle  of  the 
earth  and  the  inhabitants  thereof  are  as  grass- 
hoppers, who  stretcheth  out  the  heavens  as  a 
curtain  and  spreadeth  them  out  as  a  tent  to 
dwell  in.  That  a  puny  creature  of  the  dust, 
born  to-day  and  gone  to-morrow,  should  have 
the  audacity  to  pour  contempt  upon  that  glo 
rious  name,  which  seraphs  adore  with  rap- 
ture, is  enough  to  astonish  the  heavens  and 
convulse  the  earth.  Yea,  still  more  astonish- 
ing is  that  miracle  of  patience  which  endures 
the  monsters,  when  one  word  would  arm  all 
nature  against  them,  make  the  ground  treach- 
erous beneath  them,  heaven  terrible  above 
them,  and  hell  ready  to  meet  them  at  their 
coming.  The  magnitude  of  the  sin  cannot  be 
exaggerated,  and  yet  the  principle,  to  which 
it  is  indebted  for  its  preeminence  in  guilt,  is 
constantly  exemplified  in  the  speech  and  in- 
tercourse of  those  who  would  be  shocked  at 
the   imputation   of  any  thing   that   approiri- 


vows.  277 

mates  to  perjury.  Profane  swearing,  light  and 
frivolous  appeals  to  the  Almighty,  the  indis- 
criminate use  of  the  lot,  all  these  are  only  dif- 
ferent forms  of  expressing  irreverence  for 
God.  They  contain  the  ingredients  of  the 
same  poison  with  perjury  and  vow  breach. 
It  is  a  startling  reflection  that  the  very  cir- 
cumstance which  distinguishes  these  from  an 
ordinary  falsehood  and  has  armed  the  senti- 
ments of  mankind  against  them,  brands  the 
speech  of  the  profane  swearer  with  the  same 
species  of  crime.  It  is  not,  I  admit,  the  same 
in  degree,  but  it  is  the  same  in  kind.  The 
thoughtlessness  which  is  often  pleaded  in  ex- 
tenuation of  the  guilt,  is  a  confession  of  the 
fact.  It  is  a  proof  how  little  veneration  the 
name  of  God  inspires,  when  we  can  pronounce 
it  in  reiterated  blasphemies,  without  even  be- 
ing conscious  that  a  word  is  escaping  from 
our  lips  which  fills  all  heaven  with  awe.  It 
is  a  proof  how  near  we  come  to  despising  it, 
when  we  can  use  it  in  the  mere  wantonness 
of  sport,  as  a  convenient  expletive  to  fill  up 
the  chasms  of  discourse.     It  is  a  proof  that  all 


278  vows. 

respect  for  it  is  gone  when  we  can  use  it  to 
point  a  jest,  to  season  obscenity,  and  to  gar- 
nish a  tale.  It  is  enough  to  make  the  blood 
curdle  to  think  of  the  name  of  God  bandied 
about  as  the  bauble  and  plaything  of  fools. 
This  offence  cannot  go  unpunished.  If  there 
be  a  God,  He  must  vindicate  His  own  majesty 
and  glory.  There  must  be  a  period  when  all 
shall  tremble  before  Him,  when  every  knee 
shall  bow  and  every  heart  shall  do  rever- 
ence. The  sword  of  justice  cannot  always  be 
sheathed,  nor  the  arm  of  vengeance  slumber. 
Engrave  it  upon  your  minds,  fix  it  in  the 
very  depths  of  your  souls,  that  it  is  a  fearful 
thing  to  make  light  of  God.  It  is  the  very 
spirit  and  essence  of  all  evil,  the  very  core  of 
iniquity.  There  is  no  language  of  earnestness 
in  which  I  would  not  warn  you  against  it,  no 
language  of  expostulation  or  entreaty  in 
which  I  would  not  implore  you  against  it.  If 
you  could  see  it  as  the  angels  see  it;  or  as 
the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect  see  it;  if 
you  could  see  it  as  you  yourselves  will  see  it 
in  that  dnj  when  God  shall  arise  to  shake  ter- 


vows.  279 

ribly  the  earth — when  Jesus  shall  sit  upon  the 
throne  of  His  glory,  and  the  tribes  of  earth 
shall  be  gathered  before  Him;  if  you  could 
see  as  it  is,  in  the  naked  enormity  of  its  guilt, 
you  would  flee  from  it  as  from  the  very  pesti- 
lence of  death.  You  may  sport  with  the 
whirlwind  and  trifle  with  the  storm,  you  may 
lay  your  hand  upon  the  lion's  mane  and  play 
with  the  leopard's  spots,  you  may  go  to  the 
very  crater  of  a  burning  volcano,  and  laugh 
at  the  lava  which  it  belches  out  in  thunder, 
you  may  trifle  with  any  and  every  thing,  but 
trifle  not  with  God.  Let  there  be  one  holy 
thing  upon  which  you  dare  not  lay  a  profane 
hand,  and  let  that  be  the  name  of  God. 
Above  all  things  let  His  throne  be  sacred, 
and  His  praise  be  glorious.  Who  would  not 
fear  thee,  oh  thou  king  of  Saints  ? 

There  are  reflections  suggested  by  this  sub- 
ject, which,  at  the  risk  of  being  tedious,  I 
cannot  repress.  In  treating  of  the  benefit  of 
vows  I  had  occasion  to  allude  to  the  comfort 
and  strength  imparted  to  the  true  believer  by 
the   consciousness  that  he  belongs  to  God. 


280  vows. 

This  thought  is  an  anchor  to  the  soul  amid 
the  storms  of  temptation  and  adversity;  it 
carries  assurance  of  divine  care  and  of  divine 
protection.  But  it  has  its  counterpart,  and 
though  the  everlasting  covenant  is  so  ordered 
that  the  Lord  will  never  depart  from  His 
children,  to  do  them  good,  yet  this  very 
kindness  towards  them  aggravates  the  crime 
of  their  unfaithfulness  to  Him.  It  is  mourn- 
ful to  reflect  to  what  a  fearful  extent  spiritual 
perjury  obtains.  The  vows  of  God  are  upon 
us,  we  profess  to  be  devoted  to  Him,  and  yet 
our  pledges  are  unredeemed,  our  promises 
forgotten — our  faith  broken.  He  has  taken 
us  into  a  covenant  which  keeps  us,  and  yet 
we  live  for  the  world ;  we  forget  His  glory  in 
our  pleasures  and  our  gains.  The  mark  can- 
not be  discerned  upon  our  foreheads,  and 
through  us  His  precious  name  is  profaned. 
The  most  faithful  have  occasion  to  blush — the 
daughter  of  Zion  may  well  bow  her  head  in 
the  dust.  If  God  tenderly  forgives  us,  surely 
we  can  never  forgive  ourselves  for  the  ingrat- 
itude, th^  meanness,  the  baseness  of  not  keep- 


vows.  281 


ing  faith  with  Him  who  is  the  very  fountain 
and  source  of  truth. 

But  you  congratulate  yourselves,  perhaps, 
that  you  are  exempt  from  the  temptation  to 
spiritual  perjury.  The  vows  of  God  are  not 
upon  you.  You  have  entered  into  no  en- 
gagements to  serve  him,  and  consequently, 
whatever  other  crimes  you  may  commit,  you 
are  free  from  the  charge  of  breaking  faith  with 
your  Maker.  There  is  in  this  condition  no 
cause  of  exultation.  The  exemption  from 
one  specific  sin  is  purchased  at  a  dreadful 
price.  You  are,  according  to  the  statement, 
aliens  from  the  commonwealth  of  Israel,  and 
strangers  to  the  covenants  of  promise.  You 
are  without  Christ,  and  consequently  without 
God  and  without  hope  in  the  world.  There 
is  something  overwhelming  in  the  thought  of 
having  no  God  to  go  to;  and  yet  this  is 
the  condition,  and  the  only  condition,  upon 
which  you  can  plead  immunity  from  the 
possibility  of  breaking  vows. 

But  is  it  certain  that  the  vows  of  God  are 
not  on  you  ?     It  may  be  that  your  parents  at 


282  vows.* 


your  birth  solemnly  devoted  you  to  Him. 
This  act  of  theirs,  sanctioned  by  His  authority, 
you  are  bound  to  respect,  and  all  the  engage- 
ments, in  regard  to  you,  which,  consistently 
with  parental  rights,  they  have  made,  you  are 
bound  to  observe.  They  were  your  guar- 
dians before  you  were  conscious  of  the  need 
of  a  protector,  and  if  they  have  devoted  you 
to  God,  you  are  not  at  liberty  to  regard  your- 
selves as  your  own.  You  cannot,  without 
sacrilege,  prostitute  your  talents,  faculties, 
and  members,  to  a  profane  purpose.  Holi- 
ness to  the  Lord  must  be  written  upon  your 
foreheads,  and  when  you  forget  the  obliga- 
tions it  implies,  and  walk  in  the  light  of  your 
own  eyes,  and  after  the  imaginations  of  your 
own  hearts,  you  as  much  despise  the  cove- 
nanted claims  of  God,  as  if  you  had  given 
yourselves  to  His  service  by  your  own  free 
act.  You  have  been  made  a  vessel  of  the 
sanctuary  ;  and  in  surrendering  your  being  to 
secular  ends,  you  are  guilty  of  the  same 
species  of  sin,  which  he  commits  who  defiles 
the  temple  of  the  Lord.     Think  not,  there- 


vows.  283 

fore,  to  escape  the  guilt  of  profaneness  by 
pleading  the  absence  of  vows.  It  was  Solo- 
mon who  built  and  consecrated  the  august 
edifice  on  Moriah,  but,  being  consecrated,  it 
was  sacred  to  all  generations.  I  am  afraid 
that  the  sanctity  of  the  relation  which  the 
piety  of  the  parents  has  constituted  between 
their  children  and  God,  is  very  inadequately 
understood.  The  young  do  not  recognise  and 
feel  the  right  which  it  gives  Him  to  them — 
they  do  not  appreciate  their  state  of  external 
holiness — and  consequently,  fail  to  compre- 
hend the  malignity  of  guilt  which  is  involved 
in  the  absence  of  inward  purity.  It  is  a  great 
blessing  to  be  thus  in  covenant  with  God — it 
is  an  equal  curse  to  despise  it.  I  beseech  you, 
therefore,  to  bethink  yourselves,  and  while 
you  are  boasnng  that  you  are  free  from  per- 
jury, take  care  that  you  are  not  tainted  with 
sacrilege.  It  is  the  same  sin,  profaneness  in 
k  different  dress. 

But  is  it  so  that  you  are  free  from  vows 
which  you  have  voluntarily  assumed?  Do 
you  not  remember  the  time,  when  your  days 


284  vows. 

were  consumed  like  smoke,  and  your  bones 
burned  as  an  hearth,  when  your  souls   ab- 
horred  all   manner  of  meat,  and   you  drew 
near  to  the  gates  of  death  ?     Do  you  not  re- 
member your  anxious  thoughts,  your  solemn 
reflections,  your  agonizing  fears?     Then  you 
cried  unto  the  Lord  in  your  trouble,  and  in 
the  depths  of  your  distress  bound  yourselves 
to   His    service.      Have  you    forgotten    the 
promise  you  made  when  you  trembled  at  the 
mouth  of  the  grave  ?     Have   you   forgotten 
the  vows  which  you  uttered  when  you  shrunk 
in  terror  from  the  prospect  of  eternity?     He 
slew  them,  then  they  sought  Him ;  and  they 
returned  and  inquired  early  after  God.     And 
they  remembered   that   God  was  their  rock, 
and   the  high   God  their  redeemer.     These 
vows,   be   assured,  are   recorded   in   heaven; 
they  imposed   a   solemn  obligation   on  your 
souls,  from  which  no  power  on  earth  can  re- 
lease you ;  and  they  will  confront  and  haunt 
you,  if  unredeemed,  in  the  day  of  retribution, 
and  throughout  eternity,  as  the  ghosts  of  the 
murdered.     Such  flattering  with  the  mouth. 


V  o  w  s .  286 

such  lying  with  the  tongue,  when  th*.  heart  is 
not  right  with  God,  nor  steadfast  in  His  cov- 
enant— such  promises  made  to  procure  fa- 
vours, and  forgotten  as  soon  as  the  favours 
are  enjoyed,  are  a  mixture  of  ingratitude,  per- 
fidy, and  profaneness,  which  cannot  escape 
vengeance.  Talk  not  of  your  exemption  from 
perjury,  when  such  witnesses  are  prepared  to 
testify  against  you.  Wipe  not  your  mouths 
and  carelessly  protest  that  you  have  done  no- 
thing wrong,  when  you  have  lied  unto  God, 
and  proved  recreant  to  the  most  solemn  en- 
gagements that  it  is  possible  for  man  to  make. 
You  are  perjured — ^your  souls  are  blackened 
with  guilt,  and  unless  they  are  purged  and 
washed  through  the  blood  of  the  everlasting 
covenant,  it  will  be  like  a  mill-stone  around 
your  necks,  to  sink  you  to  the  lowest  hell. 
God  is  not  to  be  mocked.  The  conduct 
which  in  relation  to  a  fellow-man,  would 
doom  you  to  infamy,  think  you  it  loses  any 
of  its  atrocity  when  directed  to  Him  who  is 
the  very  centre  and  perfection  of  right  ?  The 
greatest  and  best  of  beings,  is  He  alone  to  be 


286  vows. 

degraded  so  low  in  the  scale  of  personal  ex- 
istence, that  faith  and  honour  lose  their  sig- 
nificancy  when  applied  to  our  intercourse 
with  Him?  Tell  it  not  in  Gath,  publish  it 
not  in  the  streets  of  Askelon ! 

There  are  other  occasions  on  which  you 
have  remembered  God  and  solemnly  plighted 
your  faith  that  you  would  serve  Him.  When 
the  pestilence  was  walking  in  darkness  and 
destruction  wasting  at  noon-day,  when  a 
thousand  were  falling  at  your  side  and  ten 
thousand  at  your  right  hand,  when  you  were 
afraid  of  the  terror  by  night  and  the  arrow 
that  flieth  by  day,  then  you  sought  the  pro- 
tection of  the  Almighty  with  promises  and 
vows,  with  strong  crying  and  tears.  You  are 
a  father,  and  have  you  forgotten  the  resolu- 
tions which  you  bound  upon  your  souls,  as 
you  hung  over  the  form  of  a  dying  child,  or 
consigned  its  dead  body  to  the  grave  ?  You 
are  a  husband,  and  do  you  not  remember  the 
agony  of  your  prayers  when  you  implored 
the  Almighty  to  spare  the  wife  of  your 
bosom?     Have   you   forgotten  the  promises. 


vows.  287 

thrice  repeated,  by  which  you  hoped  to  re- 
deem your  beloved  one  from  the  jaws  of 
death  ?  She  still  lives  ;  but  where  are  those 
vows  ? 

You  are  thoughtless  and  impenitent. 
There  was  a  time  when  you  trembled  at  the 
Word  of  God — when  the  sense  of  guilt  was. 
fastened  upon  your  consciences,  and  your 
bones  waxed  old  through  your  roaring  all  the 
day  long.  You  felt  that  you  were  a  sinner, 
and  must  be  born  again.  But  you  were  not 
yet  ready  for  the  change.  Did  you  not,  in 
the  conflicts  of  your  spirit,  solemnly  pledge 
yourselves  to  God,  that,  at  a  given  time, 
when  a  given  scheme  was  accomplished,  yod 
would  turn  to  Him  and  live  ?  That  time  has 
come  and  gone — that  scheme  has  been  real- 
ized— ^but  where  are  you  ?  It  is  vain  for  any 
man  who  has  a  conscience,  and  who  believes 
in  Providence  and  law,  it  is  vain  for  any  man 
who  has  ever  reflected  upon  his  nature  and 
his  prospects,  to  allege  that  he  is  under  no 
vows  to  God.  We  have  all  made^them,  and 
alas !  we  have  all  broken  them.    Their  wrecks 


28$  vows. 

may  be  seen  along  the  whole  course  of  our 
history — ^perfidy  and  ingratitude  have  marked 
our  career ;  our  lives  have  been  a  vast,  un- 
broken lie — and  our  true  posture  is,  with  our 
hands  on  our  mouths  and  our  faces  in  the 
dust.  When  I  reflect  upon  the  magnitude  of 
human  guilt  in  this  single  aspect  of  it,  I  am 
amazed  and  confounded  at  the  long-suffering 
forbearance  of  God.  Antecedently  to  expe- 
rience no  creature  could  have  dreamed  that 
Infinite  Holiness  could  have  endured  for  a 
day  or  an  hour  such  monsters  of  ingratitude, 
treachery  and  fraud,  as  we  have  shown  our- 
selves to  be  in  the  whole  course  of  our  deal- 
ings with  the  Father  of  lights.  I  am  ashamed 
of  myself,  I  am  ashamed  of  my  species, 
when  I  recollect  how  false  and  faithless  we 
have  been.  Who  can  boast  of  his  honour, 
who  can  scorn  the  imputation  of  a  lie,  when 
there  are  promises  in  heaven  unredeemed — 
vows  that  are  forgotten  or  despised?  Who 
dares  glory  in  his  righteousness,  when  the 
first  principles  of  justice  are  openly  trans- 
gressed?    No,  no.     We  have  all  sinned  and 


vows. 

come  short  of  the  glory  of  God.  But,  in  his 
amazing  goodness,  there  is  a  remedy.  All- 
guilty  as  we  are,  we  can  be  pardoned  and  ac- 
cepted— all-polluted  as  we  are,  we  can  be 
purified  and  cleansed.  There  is  a  fountain 
opened  in  the  house  of  David  for  sin  and  un- 
cleanness.  Let  us  wash  in  that  fountain  and 
we  shall  come  forth  new  men,  men  of  real 
truth,  honour,  and  integrity.  The  laws  of 
God  will  be  put  into  our  minds  and  written 
upon  our  hearts,  and  the  Eternal  Spirit  will 
effectually  train  us  for  glory,  honour,  and  im- 
mortality, and  crown  us  with  eternal  life. 
Oh !  that  men  would  praise  the  Lord  for  his 
goodness  and  for  his  wonderful  works  to  the 

children  of  men. 

13 


€  0 11  s  i  ^  t  ^  It  r  )i 

"Finally,  breth/en,  whatsoever  things  are  true — ^think  on 

these  things." — Philippians,  iv.  8. 

^^_^    __„  -,    The  primary  notion  of  consist- 
DISC.  YIL]  ^         ,.  , 

ency,  according  to  the  etymolo- 
gy of  the  word,  is  that  of  the  agreement  or 
correspondence,  the  standing  together^  of  things 
compared,  and  it  receives  different  names  ac- 
cording to  the  cause  or  effects  of  the  agree- 
ment in  question.  When  the  things  com- 
pared are  our  life  and  opinions,  at  successive 
periods  of  our  history,  there  emerges  the 
meaning  of  constancy  or  firmness ;  the  cause 
of  the  coincidence — the  man,  being  felt  to 
have  stood  his  ground.  When  the  things 
compared  are  our  conduct  and  relations,  the 
agreement  or  proportion  is  denominated  de- 
cency ;  the  effect  produced  upon  the  mind  of 


CONSISTENCY.  291 

the  spectator.  When  the  relations  are  moral, 
the  deportment  which  corresponds  to  them  is 
virtue ;  when  external  and  incidental,  the  de- 
portment is  simply  decorum.  When  the 
things  compared  are  our  professions  and  our 
deeds,  we  receive  the  commendation  of  sin- 
cerity or  faithfulness,  according  to  the  nature 
of  the  professions  themselves.  The  man's 
principles  and  life  stand  harmoniously  togeth- 
er. Hence,  by  an  easy  and  natural  applica- 
tion of  its  primary  import,  consistency  em- 
braces stability  of  opinion,  harmony  of  life, 
and  decency  or  propriety  of  behaviour,  in- 
cluding equally  the  obligations  of  rectitude 
and  the  lesser  morality  of  manners.  It  is 
only  in  the  sense  of  constancy  that  it  is  prop- 
erly referred  to  the  department  of  truth,  as  in 
that  sense,  it  indicates  honesty  of  sentiment, 
and  fulfils  the  expectations  which  our  princi- 
ples, character,  and  conduct,  a  species  of 
promise,  have  excited.  Though  it  is  essential 
to  integrity,  the  necessary  result  of  truth  in 
the  inward  parts,  yet,  in  itself  considered, 
Constancy  is  neither  a  virtue  nor  a  vice.     Its 


292  CONSISTENCY. 

moral  character  depends  upon  the  moral  char- 
acter of  the  past  which  it  continues  to  repro- 
duce and  to  perpetuate.  It  expresses  only 
the  notion  of  perseverance  or  continuance ;  it 
transmits  the  man  unchanged  from  one  period 
of  his  being  to  another ;  and  as  there  may  be 
uniformity  in  wickedness,  as  well  as  steadfast- 
ness in  duty,  consistency  is  entitled  to  praise 
or  blame,  not  for  itself,  but  according  to  the 
nature  of  the  things  in  which  it  pursues  the 
even  tenour  of  its  way.  There  is  no  credit  in 
perseverance,  unless  it  be  a  perseverance  in 
right.  When  our  professions  and  conduct 
give  a  promise  of  sin,  we  are  no  more  at  lib- 
erty to  gratify  the  expectations  they  excite, 
than  to  keep  any  other  unlawful  engagement. 
Repentance,  or  a  radical  change  of  mind — a 
thorough  revolution  of  purpose  and  of  life — is 
as  much  a  duty,  as  to  be  steadfast  and  unmov- 
able,  when  our  previous  course  has  abounded 
in  the  work  of  the  Lord.  To  persevere  is  a 
virtue  only  when  we  have  begun  well.  When 
the  past  has  been  right,  then,  and  then  only, 
should  the  future  be   shaped   in  conformity 


CONSISTENCY.  293 

with  it.  Consistency,  in  this  case,  is  nothing 
but  the  continued  recognition  of  the  suprema- 
cy of  right ;  the  predominance,  in  every  suc- 
cessive moment  of  our  history,  of  the  un- 
changing obligations  of  morality  and  religion. 
The  obligation  of  it  is  only  another  name  for 
the  unceasing  obligation  of  virtue.  We  are 
to  be  uniform  and  constant  in  well-doing,  be- 
cause the  same  reason  which  requires  integri- 
ty to-day,  will  exact  it  to-morrow ;  the  same 
reason  which  requires  us  to  begin,  requires  us 
to  hold  on.  The  succession  of  moments  or 
the  revolution  of  years  makes  no  change  in 
the  stable  principles  of  rectitude.  They,  like 
their  eternal  Author,  are  without  variableness 
or  shadow  of  turning ;  the  same  yesterday,  to- 
day, and  forever.  As  long  as  the  elements  of 
moral  responsibility  attach  to  us,  whether  our 
winters  have  been  few  or  many,  the  same 
rules  of  truth,  justice,  piety,  and  benevolence, 
must  continue  to  regulate  our  lives.  Duty  is 
determined  by  our  nature  and  not  by  our  age. 
Increasing  years,  it  is  true,  unfold  new  rela- 
tions, and   develope   larger  capacities.     The 


2M-  coNsisTExcr. 

circle  of  duty  may  expand,  but  its  nature  is 
subject  to  no  change.  With  this  preliminary 
explanation  I  proceed  to  the  consideration  of 
the  general  subject  of  consistency,  as  em- 
braced under  the  head  of  constancy, — the 
only  one  which  falls  within  the  scope  of 
these  discourses, — including  stability  of  opin- 
ion and  harmony  of  life. 

I.  Stability  of  opinion,  it  deserves  first  to 
be  remarked,  is  not  incompatible  with  all 
change.  Absolute  immutability  is  the  prerog- 
ative of  God  alone.  It  would  not  be  a  per- 
fection even  in  Him,  were  He  not  perfect  in 
all  other  respects,  so  that  the  notion  of  change 
involves  necessarily  the  notion  of  deteriora- 
tion or  injury.  Finite  creatures,  from  the  very 
law  of  their  nature,  are  subject  to  change 
in  being  made  capable  of  improvement. 
Their  growth,  expansion,  and  developement 
of  faculties,  the  invigoration  of  their  habits, 
and  confirmation  of  their  principles  are  all 
so  many  changes  for  the  better.  To  exempt 
them  from  change  would  be  to  stereotype 
their  imbecility  and   ignorance.      When  we 


C  O  N  S  I  S  T  E  2^  C  Y .  296 

commend  consistency  of  opinion,  we  neither 
mean  to  exclude  progress  nor  the  abandon- 
ment of  error.  If,  through  the  operation  of 
any  cause,  a  man  has  adopted  as  true  what  he 
subsequently  finds  to  be  false,  genuine  con- 
sistency requires  that  he  should  relinquish  the 
dogma.  The  pervading  love  of  truth  is  the 
spirit  which  should  regulate  all  of  our  opin- 
ions, the  standard  by  which  consistency  is 
to  be  tried,  the  touchstone  of  intellectual  in- 
tegrity. Whatever  doctrines  or  sentiments 
are  not  the  results  of  its  operation  are  preju- 
dices, even  should  they  chance  not  to  be 
errors;  and  whatever  changes  are  effected 
through  its  energy  and  influence,  are  elements 
of  progress,  and  contribute  to  the  real  perfec- 
tion of  our  nature.  He  only  deserves  the 
commendation  of  firmness  of  opinion  who  be- 
gan with  the  predominating  love  of  truth,  and 
has  maintained  it  steadily  and  sincerely  in  all 
the  subsequent  periods  of  his  history.  The 
law  of  his  intellectual  life  gives  unity  and  con- 
sistency to  all  the  operations  of  his  mind. 
Amid  all  his  changes,  he  has  still  been  the 


296  CONSISTENCY. 

same.  The  streamlet  winds  around  rocks  and 
hills,  but  it  still  bends  its  course  to  the  river, 
as  the  river  bends  its  course  to  the  sea.  The 
uniform  ascendency  of  candour,  or  the  love 
of  truth,  is  the  life  and  soul  of  the  only 
species  of  consistency  which  a  wise  man  de- 
sires to  possess.  To  have  an  opinion  to-day 
merely  because  we  had  it  yesterday,  without 
reference  to  the  grounds  on  which  it  was 
adopted,  is  childish  folly.  Error  is  none  the 
more  sacred  for  having  been  embraced — a  lie 
none  the  more  venerable  for  having  been 
told. 

Fickleness  of  opinion,  apart  from  dishonesty 
arises,  for  the  most  part,  from  an  imbecility  of 
understanding,  which  fluctuates  between  con- 
flicting probabilities  without  being  able  to  de- 
termine the  preponderance.  It  cannot  sur- 
vey the  question  as  a  whole, — a  single  view 
excludes  every  other  from  the  horizon  of  its 
vision ;  as  each  side  is  successively  examined, 
each,  for  the  moment,  appears  to  be  inviting. 
The  mind  vacillates  and  wavers.  The  assent 
oscillates  from  argument  to  argument,  without 


CONSISTENCY.  297 

the  power  of  becoming  fixed.  The  man  is 
always  of  the  last  opinion  which  had  pleaded 
its  cause  before  him.  He  wants  breadth  of 
intellect — he  wants  the  power  of  comparing 
and  weighing.  The  forces,  to  borrow  a  phys- 
ical illustration,  act  upon  him  successively 
and  singly — he  wants  the  power  of  combining 
and  resolving  them.  "His  second  thinking 
only  upsets  the  first,  and  his  third  confounds 
them  both."  The  case  of  such  a  man,  to  use 
the  striking  illustration  of  Foster — "is  like 
the  case  of  a  rustic  walking  in  London,  who, 
having  no  certain  direction  through  the  vast 
confusion  of  streets  to  the  place  where  he 
wishes  to  be,  advances  and  hesitates,  and 
turns  and  inquires,  and  becomes,  at  each  cor- 
ner, still  more  inextricably  perplexed."  Men 
of  extraordinary  acuteness  are  apt  to  be  the 
victims  of  their  own  ingenuity.  They  see 
objections,  in  the  minuteness  of  their  gaze, 
which  others,  of  wider  vision,  had  over- 
looked. Straws  are  magnified  into  formida- 
ble obstacles,  and  mole-hills  swell  into  moun- 
tains. Men  of  this  sort  cannot  be  said  to  have 
13* 


298  C  O  N  S  I  S  T  E  X  C  Y . 

an  opinion.  Their  assent  is  not  stable  enough 
to  deserve  the  name — it  is  hardly  more  than 
a  leaning,  and  hence  they  are  ever  learn- 
ing and  never  able  to  arrive  at  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  truth.  They  are  only  the  recep- 
tacles of  the  various  appearances  of  things 
which,  in  succession,  invite  their  attention — 
and  like  the  chameleon,  they  always  exhibit 
the  colour  of  the  last  object  they  touch. 
What  they  call  their  opinions  are  simply 
copies  of  these  successive  impressions — and 
are  as  various  and  fluctuating  as  the  phenome- 
na themselves.  These  are  the  species  of 
changes  which  constitute  fickleness — this  is 
real  vacillation.  But  a  change  from  the  less 
to  the  more  perfect,  from  error  to  truth,  indi- 
cates neither  weakness  nor  oscillation. 

II.  No  more  is  consistency,  or  firmness  of 
opinion,  to  be  confounded  with  obstinacy. 
That  is  the  creature,  not  of  evidence  or  the 
love  of  truth,  but  of  stupidity  or  pride.  It 
may  spring  from  an  incapacity  to  appreciate 
argument — a  vis  inertice  of  the  mind — which 
causes  it  to  stagnate  in  its  present  condition, 


CONSISTENCY.  299 

and  then,  as  Foster  has  happily  illustrated 
a  kindred  temper,  "its  constancy  is  rather  of 
the  nature  of  a  dead  weight  than  of  strength  ; 
resembling  less  the  re-action  of  a  powerful 
spring  than  the  gravitation  of  a  big  stone." 
Or  it  may  arise  from  incorrigible  headiness^ 
which  prefers  the  reputation  of  consistency  to 
that  of  candour,  and  sacrifices  truth  to  vanity. 
Its  decisive  argument  in  this  aspect  is  always 
personal.  /  have  said  so,  or  I  have  expressed 
such  an  opinion,  and,  like  the  law  of  the 
Medes  and  Persians,  I  cannot  change.  It  is  a 
blind,  bold  presumption  of  personal  infallibili- 
ty. The  ass  or  the  mule  may  be  obstinate, 
but  neither  can  ever  be  consistent.  Consist- 
ency is  the  inflexibility  of  principle — obstina- 
cy the  inflexibility  of  pride.  Reason  predom- 
inat<^5  in  the  one — will,  in  the  other.  The 
one  is  a  homage  to  truth — the  other  is  the 
idolatry  of  self  When  obstinacy  is  associated 
with  uncharitableness,  it  becomes  bigotry.  It 
is  one  of  the  effects  of  candid  inquiry,  accom- 
panied as  it  is  with  a  sense  of  the  difficulties 
that  attend  the  investigation  of  truth,  that  it 


300  CONSISTENCY. 

renders  us  lenient  to  the  weaknesses  and 
errors  of  others.  We  may  be  sensible  of  the 
mischief  likely  to  result  from  perverse  opin- 
ions, and  may  feel  the  obligation  of  counter- 
acting their  influence,  but  we  learn  to  distin- 
guish betwixt  the  sentiments  and  the  man. 
The  worst  doctrines  excite  in  relation  to  the 
individual  only  pity  or  compassion,  though, 
in  themselves,  they  are  the  objects  of  a  right- 
eous abhorrence.  It  is  not  more  character- 
istic of  charity  that  it  rejoices  in  the  truth, 
than  it  is  characteristic  of  the  love  of  truth 
that  it  rejoices  in  charity.  The  consistent 
man,  however,  is,  by  no  means,  insensible  to 
error.  There  is  a  bastard  liberality  which 
conceals  its  indifference  under  the  specious 
pretext  of  thinking  no  evil.  There  is  not  en- 
ergy enough  in  its  apprehensions  of  truth  to 
rouse  any  emotion — there  is  nothing  that  can 
be  called  love.  It  is  the  frigid  tranquillity  of 
a  mind  which  prefers  ease  to  every  other 
good. 

But  as  the  counterpart  of  spurious  charity 
(such    is    the  weakness   of  human    nature), 


CONSISTENCY.  301 

we  are  constantly  tempted  to  confound  asper- 
ity of  invective  with  zeal  for  truth — ^bitterness 
of  denunciation  with  opposition  to  error.  We 
are  prone  to  call  down  fire  from  heaven  upon 
those  who  differ  from  us — forgetting  that  the 
dispensation  has  passed  away,  in  which  truth 
was  civil  obedience,  and  error  rebellion 
against  the  State.  Opinions,  except  in  cases 
in  which  they  are  promotive  of  sedition  or  of 
crime,  are  no  longer  offences  within  the  juris- 
diction of  the  magistrate — and  we  are  not  at 
liberty  to  cherish  a  spirit  which  would  prompt 
us  to  persecute,  if  persecution  were  still  with- 
in our  power.  The  golden  mean  betwixt  in- 
difference on  the  one  hand  and  intolerance  on 
the  other,  is  characteristic  of  genuine  consist- 
ency. There  is  a  love  of  truth,  which  is 
superior  to  every  other  consideration — there 
is  also,  from  the  necessary  law  of  contraries, 
a  corresponding  detestation  of  falsehood. 
There  is  also  sympathy  with  the  weakness 
and  prejudices  of  men — and  a  sincere  desire 
to  see  the  emancipation  of  their  minds  fully 
achieved.     The   result   is   a  mixed   state,  in 


802  CONSISTENCY. 

which  all  these  elements  are  fused — the  ex- 
emplification of  the  apostolic  method  of 
speaking  the  truth  in  love.  It  should  not  be 
overlooked  that  there  are  occasions  on  which 
the  profoundest  charity  employs  the  language 
of  the  sternest  rebuke.  Men  must  sometimes 
be  pulled  out  of  the  fire  with  violence,  and  in 
such  cases  it  is  preposterous  to  complain  of 
the  rudeness  of  the  means,  when  they  were 
the  only  ones  that  could  avail.  The  sleeping 
hypocrite  is  not  to  be  aroused  by  honeyed 
words,  nor  a  shameful  imposture  exposed  by 
delicate  and  courtly  phrases.  It  is  Charity 
herself  that  thunders  the  woe  in  their  ears. 
It  is  not  the  language  of  malice — but  of  pity 
— and  it  is  with  a  heavy  heart  and  a  sad 
countenance  that  he  who  is  intent  upon  the 
best  interests  of  his  race,  must  denounce  the 
vengeance  of  God  against  those,  whom  his 
very  earnestness  evinces,  that  he  is  anxious  to 
rescue  from  ruin.  He  has  no  pleasure  in  con- 
templating the  doom  he  proclaims.  It  is  not 
the  constancy  nor  the  zeal  of  the  bigot  and 
sectary  which  justljr    exposes   them   to   con- 


CONSISTENCY.  '603 

tempt — it  is  the  pride  which  lies  at  the  bot- 
tom of  their  opinions  and  the  malignity  which 
pervades  their  spirit.  They  neither  love 
truth  nor  their  race — they  are  simply  lovers 
of  themselves. 

There  is  no  truth  which  the  young  are  in 
more  danger  of  forgetting,  than  that  genuine 
stability  of  opinion  can  never  be  obtained  as 
the  object  of  direct  effort.  To  make  constan- 
cy an  idol  is  to  disregard  the  authority  of 
candour,  as  the  pervading  law  of  intellectual 
activity.  It  is  a  foolish  prejudice  which  hesi- 
tates to  inquire,  because  it  is  afraid  of  change. 
True  firmness  is  only  the  result  of  a  perpetual 
and  persevering  honesty  of  mind.  He  that 
always  walks  by  the  same  rule  need  not  be 
afraid  of  inconsistency.  Make  the  love  of 
truth  the  supreme  principle  of  thought,  guard 
against  the  influences  which  are  likely  to  se- 
duce you  into  error,  love  truth  for  itself  and 
not  for  its  dowry,  and  your  path  will  be  as 
the  shining  light,  which  shineth  more  and 
more  unto  the  perfect  day.  If,  at  any  time, 
you   have  been   deceived  by  error,  do   not 


304  CONSISTENCy. 

hesitate  to  renounce  it  as  soon  as  it  is  discov- 
ered. Let  no  pride  of  opinion  replace  can- 
dour with  obstinacy,  or  tempt  you  to  con- 
found stubbornness  with  firmness.  Be  not 
ashamed  to  acknowledge  that  you  are  fallible 
and  imperfect — but  be  ashamed  to  confess 
that  you  prefer  stagnation  to  improvement. 
It  was  a  noble  answer  of  Melancthon,  when 
reproached  with  inconsistency  on  account  of 
the  abandonment  in  later  life  of  some  of  his 
juvenile  opinions;  that  he  would  be  very 
sorry  to  think  that  he  had  lived  so  long  with- 
out learning  anything.  The  same  silly  preju- 
dice against  change  which  tempts  us  to 
stereotype  opinions,  is  the  deadly  foe  to  all 
improvement  in  the  State.  Innovations  are 
dreaded,  without  respect  to  their  character 
and  tendencies,  on  the  naked  ground  that 
they  involve  a  departure  from  established  cus- 
toms. Beyond  doubt,  a  presumption  is  al- 
ways against  them — and  it  is  far  better  to 
stand  still  than  to  introduce  changes  merely 
from  the  love  of  novelty.  But  society,  like 
the   individual,    is   certainly   capable   of  im- 


CONSISTENCY.  ^  305 

provement,  and  when  it  is  a  real  "reforma- 
tion that  draweth  on  the  change,  and  not  the 
desire  of  change  that  pretendeth  the  reforma- 
tion," it  is  a  blind  idolatry  of  the  past  that  re- 
sists the  innovation.  True  conservation  com- 
bines stability  with  the  spirit  of  progress.  It 
retains  the  good  and  incorporates  with  it 
whatever  of  utility  or  excellence  the  present 
has  to  offer.  It  imitates  time,  which,  as  Lord 
Bacon  remarks,  "innovateth  greatly,  but 
quietly,  and  by  degrees  scarce  to  be  per- 
ceived." It  is  opposed  to  all  violent  disrup- 
tions or  radical  revolutions;  it  would  have 
the  past  and  the  future  so  imperceptibly 
blended  with  each  other,  that  they  should  run 
together  and  coalesce,  without  an  absolute 
commencement  or  a  sudden  termination. 

As  fickleness  results,  in  a  great  measure, 
from  imbecility  of  understanding  and  a  want 
of  confidence  in  our  own  judgments,  it  is  a 
matter  of  the  utmost  importance  that  we  train 
our  minds  to  a  military  discipline  of  thought. 
There  are  some  persons  who  can  hardly  be 
said  to  think — they  are  the  passive  recipients 


306  CONSISTENCr. 

of  impressions  and  suggestions,  derived  from 
their  circumstances  or  surrounding  objects; 
but  they  exert  no  active  influence  upon  the 
train  which  passes  through  their  minds. 
They  have  no  grasp  of  any  thing.  Hence 
what  they  call  their  opinions  must  sit  loosely 
upon  them.  The  least  opposition  or  difficulty 
disconcerts  them — they  dare  not  rely  upon 
themselves.  The  remedy  against  this  evil  is 
the  habit,  acquired  by  ceaseless  vigilance  and 
discipline,  of  thinking  clearly,  distinctly,  and 
coherently.  The  confidence  in  our  facul- 
ties  must  not  be  a  reckless  presumption ;  this 
is  the  parent  of  obstinacy  and  conceit — it 
must  result  from  the  consciousness  that  we  see 
things  in  their  just  proportions,  and. survey 
them  in  their  true  significancy.  The  confi- 
dence of  philosophy  is  always  accompanied 
by  humility  and  modesty.  Though  the  man 
may  feel  that  his  notions  are  clear  and  con- 
nected, and  entertain  no  distrust  of  any  given 
opinion,  yet  there  is  such  an  habitual  sense  of 
the  limitation  of  his  faculties  and  of  the 
boundless  regions  over  which  his  ignorance 


CONSISTENCY.  807 

extends,  that  he  is  always  modest  and  unas- 
suming. Presumption,  on  the  contrary,  as- 
pires to  omniscience — it  regards  its  facul- 
ties as  competent  for  any  thing,  and  is  pre- 
pared to  assert  that  nothing  exists  beyond  the 
territory  in  which  its  excursions  have  been 
made. 

The  fickleness  which  results  from  the  in- 
fluences of  sinister  motives,  in  which  the 
heart  is  made  to  corrupt  the  head,  deserves 
rather  to  be  called  dishonesty  than  fickleness. 
As  we  ha^e  already  seen,  belief  is  not  wholly 
involuntary.  We  can  mould  our  opinions 
into  the  type  of  our  passions  and  our  interests. 
A  sophist  may  finally  succeed  in  persuad- 
ing his  understanding  to  embrace  any  lie. 
When  interest  or  ambition,  or  the  love  of 
pleasure,  is  stronger  than  the  love  of  truth, 
we  may  expect  a  man  to  reflect,  in  the  variety 
of  his  opinions,  the  variety  of  shapes  which 
these  objects  are  accustomed  to  assume.  This 
is,  perhaps,  the  most  fruitful  source  of  the 
changes  in  principle  which  distinguish  those 
who  court  popular  favour.     They  trim  their 


808  CONSISTS  .^CY. 

sails  to  the  breeze.  In  some  instances  they 
are  flagrantly  dishonest — they  profess  opin- 
ions which  they  do  not  believe ;  but  in  many 
others,  they  are  the  dupes  of  their  pas- 
sions. They  have  revolved  the  desirableness 
of  change  so  long  and  earnestly,  that  they 
finally  experience  it.  It  is  this  species  of 
fickleness  which  the  moral  sense  of  mankind 
so  indignantly  condemns.  We  can  pity  the 
man  who  vacillates  because  he  is  incapable 
of  vigourous  and  systematic  thought — but  the 
man  who  changes  his  opinions  with  his  inter- 
ests, who  inquires  only  for  the  expedient  and 
not  for  the  true — who  is  more  solicitous  about 
what  shall  serve  a  turn,  than  whafras  condu- 
cive to  the  health  of  his  understanding  or  the 
good  of  his  kind,  we  despise  too  much  to 
pity.  The  baseness  of  such  conduct,  and  the 
moral  resentment  which  every  ingenuous 
mind  cherishes  against  it,  bring  all  change 
into  suspicion.  Men  seek  consistency  for  it- 
self, in  order  to  escape  the  odium  of  sinister 
and  selfish  motives.  They  feel  that  the  impu- 
tation of  dishonesty  may  be  cast  upon  them, 


c  o  N  s  I  s  T  E  X  c  y .  809 

and  are  afraid  to  confess  their  errors,  and  fol- 
low the  cozrse  of  their  sincere  and  unbiassed 
convictions. 

The  only  antidote  to  this  species  of  incon- 
sistency is  to  be  found  in  that  moral  and  re- 
ligious culture,  which  gives  the  law  of  God 
and  the  authority  of  conscience  the  suprema- 
cy to  which  they  are  entitled.  We  must 
expel  unhallowed  motive's  by  the  operation 
of  others  of  an  opposite  character — the  devils 
must  be  ejected  by  fasting  and  prayer.  It  is 
a  corrupt  and  deceitful  nature  which,  occa- 
sions the  mischief,  and  a  complete  exemption 
can  only  be  secured  by  the  renovation  of  the 
soul.  The  fountain  must  be  purified — the 
tree  made  good — or  no  thorough  reformation 
can  take  place.  No  man  is  safe  from  the 
danger  of  tergiversation  and  apostasy  as  long 
as  any  principle  obtains  in  his  heart  stronger 
than  the  fear  of  God.  There  is  always  a 
point,  like  the  heel  of  Achilles,  in  which  he  is 
vulnerable. 

II.  Closely  allied  to  stability  of  opinion  is 
consistency    Dr    harmony   of    life.     When    a 


310  CONSISTENCY. 

man's  actions  correspond  to  his  professed 
principles  and  fulfil  the  expectations  which 
his  character  and  past  conduct  have  excited, 
he  is  entitled  to  the  distinction  of  a  consistent 
man.  "  His  carriage  is  conformable  to  itself" 
The  standard  of  virtuous  consistency  is  the 
pervading  influence  of  integrity  of  hsart.  He 
whose  eye  is  single  will  never  be  wayv/ard  in 
his  course. 

Inconsistency  may  spring  from  a  defect  of 
understanding  which  grasps  its  principles  too 
loosely  to  give  them  an  operative  influence 
upon  the  conduct,  or  from  defect  of  will, 
which  is  not  able  to  resist  the  temptations  to 
a  contrary  course ;  or  from  defect  of  honesty, 
in  professing  principles  which  one  does  not 
actually  believe.  The  third  is  hypocrisy,  the 
second  weakness,  and  the  first  fickleness. 

1.  In  the  first  case,  the  principles  may  be 
sound  and  upright,  but  as  they  have  no  hold 
upon  the  heart,  the  springs  of  action  are  inde- 
pendent of  fjem,  as  to  the  influences  which 
excite  and  the  motives  which  regulate  their 
course      The  man  is   ^^s  completely  the  crea- 


CONSISTENCY.  811 

ture  of  impulse,  as  if  he  were  destitute  of 
reason  or  of  conscience.  This  want  of  energy 
in  the  understanding  is  a  very  different  thing 
from  impotency  of  will.  The  principles 
would  controul,  if  the  man  had  a  firm  hold 
upon  them — ^but  his  notions  are  superficial,  his 
thoughts  without  intensity — his  mind  is  lan- 
guid and  sleepy.  He  rather  dozes  over  his 
principles  than  believes  them.  As  there  is  a 
torpor  of  the  imagination  which  often  renders 
a  man  rude  and  repulsive,  through  inability 
to  exchange  situations  with  another,  and  real- 
ize his  own  feelings  upon  the  change,  so  every 
one  must  have  noticed,  that  the  intellectual 
operations  of  some  men  are  so  lifeless  and 
inert,  that,  for  all  practical  purposes,  they 
might  almost  as  well  be  without  an  under- 
standing at  all.  Such  men,  when  required  to 
act,  are  like  a  ship  without  a  rudder,  exposed 
to  the  mercy  of  the  winds  and  waves.  Their 
impulses  are  apt  to  be  in  the  inverse  ratio  of 
their  mental  energy — and  hence  their  conduct 
may  be  expected  to  exhibit  all  the  fluctua- 
tions and  caprices  of  passion  and  app-^tite. 


S12  C  O  N  S  I  B  T  E  N  C  V  . 

The  explanation  of  their  waywardness  is  not 
that  they  have  no  principles,  but  that  their 
principles  want  intensity;  they  are  on  the 
surface — not  in  the  texture  of  the  soul. 

2.  By  defect  of  will  in  the  second  case,  I 
mean  a  defect  in  strength  of  purpose.  There 
are  sound  principles  and  there  is  a  general 
resolution  to  exemplify  them  in  life;  but 
upon  occasions  of  sudden  temptation — or 
where  the  inducements  to  transgression  are 
strong  and  multiplied,  the  will  is  mastered. 
In  this  case  there  is  no  torpor — there  are  life 
and  activity — there  is  often  a  severe,  some- 
times a  protracted  conflict — and  the  will  sel- 
dom yields  until  the  understanding  has  been 
bribed  into  a  lie.  But  still,  as  the  seat  of  the 
disorder  is  in  the  active  principles  of  our  na- 
ture, and  as  the  temptation  was  immediately 
addressed  to  them,  this  species  of  inconsistency 
may  be  ascribed  to  the  state  of  the  will.  This 
is  the  kind  of  inconsistency  that  most  general- 
ly prevails  in  the  world.  The  changes  of 
fortune  from  adversity  to  prosperity  or  from 
prosperity  to  adversity,  from  honour  to  shame 


CONSISTENCY.  313 

or  from  contempt  to  popularity,-  from  poverty 
to  wealth  or  from  wealth  to  poverty — the 
changes  of  situation,  from  a  public  to  a  pri- 
vate or  from  a  private  to  a  public  station,  our 
different  circumstances  and  relations — the  dif- 
ferent societies  into  which  we  are  thrown,  are 
so  many  trials  of  the  strength  of  virtue,  and 
few  have  been  able  to  undergo  them  without 
tripping  in  their  steps.  To  keep  the  even 
tenour  of  one's  way  in  sunshine  and  storm, 
through  evil  as  well  as  through  good  report, 
amid  afflictions  and  reproaches  as  well  as 
smiles  and  benedictions,  is  a  proof  of  integri- 
ty which  he  is  thrice-blessed  who  can  appro- 
priate to  himself  To  be  always  the  same,  at 
all  times,  in  all  places,  in  all  conditions,  in  all 
companies — to  stand  firmly  by  our  principles 
at  every  sacrifice  of  interest  or  of  fame — to 
consent  to  be  misunderstood  and  maligned 
rather  than  let  go  our  integrity — to  count  no- 
thing a  good  but  duty,  nothing  ill  but  wrong 
— this  is  a  perfection  of  character,  which, 
while  it  is  incumbent  upon  all  to  pursue,  such 

is  the  melancholv  weakness  of  human  nature, 
14 


814  CONSISTENCY. 

that  it  has  ne\ner  been  realized  but  once.  Our 
efforts  are  at  best  but  faint  approximations. 
We  press  forward — not  that  we  have  already 
attained — but  the  prize  is  in  view.  We  have 
but  one  rule  to  go  by.  The  law  of  the  Lord 
must  be  in  our  hearts,  must  be  the  controlling 
law  of  our  wills,  if  we  would  keep  us  from 
the  paths  of  the  destroyer.  When  the  princi- 
ples of  duty  are  habits,  and  holiness  is  the  na- 
ture of  the  soul,  then,  and  then  only,  can  we 
hope  to  be  perfect.  But,  in  the  meantime, 
our  duty  is  to  watch  against  temptation,  and 
pray  for  strength  to  resist  it.  Vigilance  and 
prayer  are  the  indispensable  conditions  of  suc- 
cess. Let  no  man  presume  upon  his  own 
strength.  The  stoutest  have  fallen,  and 
though  low  and  vulgar  temptations  may  have 
no  effect  upon  us,  yet  depend  upon  it,  that 
there  is  some  door  by  which  every  heart  can 
be  entered,  unless  kept  by  the  keeper  of 
Israel,  and  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy.  No  man  is  safe  but  he  who  abides 
under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty.  Of  every 
other  it  may  be  truly  said  that  he  stands  in 


CONSISTENCY.  816 

slippery  places,  and  his  feet  shall  slide  \d.  due 
time. 

3.  The  third  case  of  inconsistency  is  an  in- 
stance of  pure  hypocrisy,  and  after  what  has 
already  been  said  of  the  law  of  sincerity  re- 
quires no  other  notice  than  that  of  stern  and 
indignant  reprobation. 

The  conduct  of  men  in  relation  to  religion 
is  chargeable  with  inconsistency  in  all  these 
aspects.  In  the  first  place  they  assent  to  its 
doctrines — they  acknowledge  its  overwhelm- 
ing importance — that  it  is  the  one  thing  need- 
ful, and  should  constitute  the  great  absorbing 
business  of  their  lives;  they  profess  to  be 
convinced  of  truths  which  it  would  seem  are 
enough  to  shake  heaven  and  earth  in  the 
great  commotion ;  and  yet  so  little  power  do 
these  principles  have  upon  their  minds,  that 
hardly  a  trace  of  their  influence  can  be  de- 
tected in  the  daily  walk.  They  receive  only 
a  cold  and  otiose  assent — all  living  interest  is 
expended  upon  the  world.  Again,  when  the 
conscience  has  been  really  awakened,  and  the 
sinner  is  aroused  to  some  effort  for  the  salva- 


316  C  O  N  S  I  S  T  E  N  C  Y  . 

tion  of  the  soul,  how  feeble  and  irresolute  are 
the  decisions  of  the  will.  The  truth  is  felt, 
but  the  lusts  of  the  flesh  are  stronger  than  it, 
and,  unless  grace  interpose,  in  every  instance 
secure  the  victory.  What  is  still  worse — the 
transgressor,  as  a  quietus  to  his  conscience, 
sometimes  assumes  the  obligations  of  religion, 
and  undertakes  to  palm  upon  his  God  the 
form  as  a  substitute  for  the  substance.  We 
have  all  dealt  faithlessly  upon  this  subject. 
We  have  resisted  reason,  conscience,  and  the 
Spirit  of  God.  We  have  been  wayward  and 
rebellious  children.  Let  us  resolve,  in  all 
future  time,  to  act  in  accordance  with  the 
dignity  of  rational  and  intellectual  beings. 
If  religion  is  true,  let  us  embrace  it  in  our 
hearts  and  embody  it  in  our  lives.  If  there 
is  -an  endless  destiny  for  which  we  are  called 
to  prepare,  let  us  project  our  plans  upon  a 
scale  commensurate  with  its  grandeur,  and 
pursue  them  to  their  consummation  with  un- 
tiring zeal  and  perseverance.  Let  us  fix  our 
eyes  upon  the  skies,  and,  in  seeking  glor}'-, 
honour,  and  immortality,  we  shall  assuredly 


CONSISTENCY.  817 

lay  hold  upon  eternal  life.  Supreme  devotion 
to  the  glory  of  God  will  give  consistency  to 
our  thoughts  and  harmony  to  our  lives.  / 
have  set  the  Lord  alivays  before  me^  because 
He  is  at  my  right  hand^  I  shall  not  be  moved, 

III.  Before  concluding  this  discourse,  it 
may  not  be  improper,  though  the  subject  is 
only  remotely  connected  with  that  of  truth, 
to  make  a  few  remarks  upon  that  species  of 
consistency  which  obtains  in  the  correspond- 
ence of  our  actions  to  our  external  circum- 
stances and  incidental  relations.  This  is 
properly  decorum  or  decency.  In  a  wide 
sense  decency  covers  the  whole  ground  of  our 
relations,  and  includes  the  dignity  of  virtue  as 
well  as  the  proprieties  of  life.  There  is  an 
intimate  alliance,  no  doubt,  between  integrity 
of  heart  and  a  delicate  refinement  of  man- 
ners. Each  adorns  its  possessor — each  is 
beautiful  and  lovely.  The  two  combined 
make  up  that  gracefulness  of  character  which 
Cicero  so  warmly  commends  in  his  Offices. 
Whatever  is  virtuous  is  certainly  becoming ;  it 
is  adapted  to  the  nature  and  state  of  the  spe* 


318  CON-SIS  TEXcy. 

cies — and  it  should  be  an  additional  incentive 
to  duty,  that  it  not  only  contributes  to  the 
health,  but  to  the  ornament  and  glory  of  man. 
In  the  sight  of  angels  and  of  holy  beings,  the 
sinner  is  a  deformed  and  ugly  thing.  His 
habits  and  affections  are  as  unsuited  to  the 
constitution  of  his  mind  as  coarse  and  unseem- 
ly apparel,  or  rude  and  boisterous  manners,  at 
a  festival  or  at  court.  They  contemplate  him 
with  feelings  analogous  to  those  with  which 
we  contemplate  the  disgusting  coarseness  of 
the  low  and  abandoned.  The  disproportion 
betwixt  his  faculties  and  actions — ^betwixt  his 
capacities  and  ends,  is  so  huge  and  revolting, 
that  we  can  well  understand  the  terms  of  self- 
loathing  and  abhorrence,  of  shame  and  con- 
fusion of  face,  which  true  penitence  is  accus- 
tomed to  appropriate.  And  of  all  indecen- 
cies impiety  is  the  most  monstrous.  It  is  an 
outrage  upon  the  original  dignity  of  man,  a 
being  made  but  little  less  than  the  angels,  and 
capable  of  eating  angels'  food,  to  waste  his 
noble  energies  upon  the  beggarly  elements  of 
earth.     It  is  a  lamentation  and  shall  be  for  a 


CONSISTENCY.  319 

lamentation  that  he  who  might  aspire  to  com- 
munion and  fellowship  with  God,  should  be 
content  to  accept  his  portion  among  the 
beasts  that  perish.  Religion  is  the  true  glory 
of  man,  and  those  who  despise  its  claims, 
must,  from  the  necessity  of  the  case,  awake  to 
shame  and  everlasting  contempt. 

But  my  purpose,  at  present,  is  not  to  dis- 
cuss the  fitnesses  which  grow  out  of  the  es- 
sential relations  of  humanity,  all-important  as 
these  are,  and  interesting  as  is  the  light  in 
which  they  hold  up  the  beauty  and  dignity 
of  virtue.  I  now  have  in  view  those  external 
and  incidental  relations  which  are  peculiar  to 
individuals,  and  which  grow  out  of  their  age, 
station,  business,  and  pursuits.  Cicero  has 
marked  the  distinction,  and  given  some  ad- 
mirable hints  for  preserving  decorum  in  each. 
What  is  becoming  in  the  young  is  not  becom- 
ing in  the  old — what  is  becoming  in  a  servant 
might  not  be  becoming  in  his  master.  What  is 
suited  to  the  condition  of  a  peasant  would  be 
grossly  out  of  proportion  to  the  state  of  a  lord. 
The  rules  which  custom  has  sanctioned  are 


320  CONSISTENCY. 

not  altogether  arbitrary.  They  are  founded 
upon  an  analogy  which  is  much  more  easily 
felt  than  defined;  and  delicacy  of  sensibil- 
ity to  this  species  of  decency  is  the  mark  of  a 
noble  and  generous  mind.  It  is  what  is  com- 
monly called,  especially  when  associated  with 
solid  virtue,  dignity  of  character.  This  was 
the  kind  of  fitness  which  Themistocles  had  his 
eye  on,  when  he  -^rebutted  the  imputation 
growing  out  of  his  want  of  a  common  accom- 
plishment: ''  I  cannot  fiddle,  but  I  know  how 
to  make  a  small  town  a  great  city."  It  was 
not  for  a  man,  whose  mind  was  intent  upon 
grand  and  lofty  aims,  to  be  stooping  to  the 
amusements  of  the  giddy  and  the  gay.  This 
same  spirit  ^Y3iS  exemplified  in  Nehemiah, 
when  he  indignantly  rejected  an  unworthy 
proposal :  "And  I  said,  should  such  a  man  as 
I  flee?  who  is  there  that  being  as  I  am, 
would  go  into  the  temple  to  save  his  life  ?  I 
will  not  go  in."  In  contrast  to  these  cases  is 
the  conduct  of  Nero,  fiddling  when  Rome  was 
on  fire,  and  disguised  as  a  charioteer,  when  an 
atrocious  persecution  was  going  on.     The  life 


CONSISTENCY.  321 

of  the  bloody  Jeffreys  is  not  more  distin- 
guished by  the  savage  depravity  of  his  heart, 
and  the  prostitution  of  his  office  to  the  most 
wicked  and  corrupt  designs,  than  by  the 
brutal  ferocity  of  his  manners,  and  the  degra- 
dation of  his  rank  by  the  most  shameful  and 
revolting  indecencies.  He  had  as  little  sense 
of  decorum  as  of  duty. 

There  may  be  refinement  of  external  man- 
ners and  scrupulous  attention  to  outward  de- 
corum, as  the  results  of  education  and  habit, 
without  sensibility  to  beauty  and  without 
moral  culture.  Accomplishments  may  be  me- 
chanically imparted  and  mechanically  used. 
But  in  these  cases,  they  are  cold  and  repul- 
sive. They  want  the  freshness  and  glow  of 
nature  and  of  life.  They  are  truly  graceful 
only  when  they  are  the  genuine  expressions 
of  the  spirit  of  the  mind.  He,  therefore,  that 
would  aspire  to  the  praise  of  dignity  of  char- 
acter, must  study  at  once  the  general  excel- 
lence of  his  nature  and  his  particular  sphere 
as  an  individual.     He  must  aim  at  worth  as  a 

man,  and  at  propriety  as  such  a  man.     He 
14* 


822  CONSISTENCY. 

must  cherish  a  nice  discernment  of  the  beau- 
tiful and  becoming,  and  not  permit  himself 
to  become  familiar  with  the  little,  the  degrad- 
ing, and  the  mean. 

It  is  in  their  relaxations  and  amusements 
that  men  are  most  apt  to  forget  what  is  due 
to  their  character.  When  the  eye  of  the 
world  is  upon  them,  or  when  they  are  en- 
gaged in  their  pursuits  of  business,  they  are 
not  so  likely  to  unbend.  But  in  their  hours 
of  recreation  they  not  unfrequently  compound 
with  their  dignity.  This  is  particularly  the 
case  with  the  young,  at  that  most  important 
period  of  their  lives,  when  they  are  laying 
the  foundations  of  their  future  characters. 
Colleges  and  universities,  both  in  this  country 
and  Europe,  have  suffered  from  no  cause 
more  severely  than  inattention  on  the  part  of 
their  students,  to  what  was  due  to  the  station 
they  occupy.  The  indecency  of  their  amuse- 
ments has  been  the  bane  of  these  seats  of 
learning,  and  has  counteracted  the  effect,  in 
multiplied  instances,  of  the  most  faithful  in- 
struction     Antecedently   to   experience,    we 


CONSISTENCY.  323 

should  form  a  fine  picture  of  a  youthful  stu- 
dent— we  should  figure  him  as  one  whose 
mind  was  expanding  in  knowledge — who  was 
beginning  to  taste- the  sweetness  of  truth — to 
relish  the  beautiful  and  admire  the  good. 
We  should  expect  him  to  be  animated  with  a 
just  sense  of  the  dignity  of  his  pursuits,  to 
breathe  their  refinement,  and  to  reflect,  in  all 
his  conversation  and  deportment,  the  elevat- 
ing influence  of  letters.  His  amusements  and 
recreations,  we  should  naturally  think,  would 
be  impregnated  with  the  same  spirit.  The 
groves  in  which  he  walked,  the  place  in 
which  he  dwelt,  we  should  spontaneously 
image  to  our  fancy,  as  the  abodes  of  quiet, 
tranquillity,  and  peace.  But  how  sadly  are 
these  anticipations  too  often  disappointed. 
''Let  him,"  says  the  biographer  of  Bacon, 
''  who  is  fond  of  indulging  in  dream-like  ex- 
istence, go  to  Oxford,  and  stay  there ;  let  him 
study  this  magnificent  spectacle,  the  same  un- 
der all  aspects,  with  its  mental  twilight  tem- 
pering the  glare  of  noontide,  or  mellowing 
the  shadowy  moonlight;  let  him  wander  in 


824  CONSISTENCY. 

her  sylvan  suburbs,  or  linger  in  her  cloistered 
halls ;  but  let  him  not  catch  the  din  of  schol- 
ars or  teachers,  or  dine  or  sup  with  them,  or 
speak  a  word  to  any  of  the  privileged  inhab- 
itants ;  for  if  he  does,  the  spell  will  be  broken, 
the  poetry  and  the  religion  gone,  and  the  pal- 
ace of  enchantment  will  melt  from  his  em- 
brace into  thin  air."  If  the  vain  and  frivo- 
lous agitations  of  their  wit  were  all  that  dis- 
figured our  seats  of  learning,  the  evil  would 
not  be  so  intolerable.  But  how  ill  do  turbu- 
lence, riot,  and  disorder,  boisterous  mirth, 
coarse  ribaldry  and  even  open  profanity,  com- 
port with  the  temple  which  has  been  conse- 
crated to  letters.  The  case  is  immeasura- 
bly worse,  when  a  low  standard  of  opinion 
endures,  if  it  does  not  sanction,  flagrant 
breaches  of  morality.  It  is  the  influence  of 
these  abuses  which,  in  too  many  cases,  has 
rendered  public  schools  and  colleges,  in  the 
language  of  Dr.  Arnold,  "nurseries  of  vice." 
"  Those  who  are  dismissed  from  the  parental 
roof,"  complains  the  same  illustrious  teacher, 
"frank,  open,  ingenuous  and  pure,  soon  lose 


CONSISTENCY.  825 

these  graces  whicli  adorned  them,  and  return, 
to  their  parent's  shame,  without  modesty, 
without  nice  sensibility  to  truth — without 
tenderness  and  sympathy — coarse,  false,  and 
unfeeling."  This  is  the  natural  result  of  de- 
parting in  the  first  instance  from  the  spirit 
of  rigid  propriety.  Proficere  in  jpejus  is  the 
law  of  degradation.  When  the  general  feeling 
of  fitness  is  shocked  or  rudely  disregarded,  a 
man  has  taken  a  step  towards  the  corruption 
of  his  principles  as  well  as  his  manners.  The 
sentiment  of  honour  is  weakened  by  every 
blow  which  is  inflicted  on  the  sense  of  pro- 
priety. He  that  becomes  accustomed  to  what 
is  unseemly  and  unbecoming  and  out  of  all 
proportion  in  lighter  matters,  will  soon  lose 
the  perception  of  the  beautiful  in  the  weight- 
ier matters  of  the  law.  This  is  the  reason 
why  it  is  so  important  that  the  amusements 
of  the  young  should  be  made  to  harmonize 
with  their  condition  and  relations.  In  these 
amusements  a  moral  discipline  is  going  on,  a 
moral  influence  exerted,  which  will  tell  upon 


CONSISTENCY. 

their     future     character — unconsciously    but 
surely  they  are  shaping  their  destiny. 

Many  of  these  inconsistencies,  my  young 
friends,  I  rejoice  to  say  cannot  be  imputed  to 
you.  They  are  of  a  character  to  make  you 
scorn  them.  But  be  not  satisfied  with  pres- 
ent attainments.  Let  it  be  your  ambition  to 
have  a  college,  in  which  the  deportment  of 
every  member  shall  reflect  the  refinement  of 
the  gentleman,  the  dignity  of  the  scholar,  and 
the  integrity  of  the  Christian.  We  can  make 
this  a  delightful  place — we  can  turn  these 
groves  into  hallowed  ground,  and  these  clois- 
tered halls  we  can  render  worthy  of  the  illus- 
trious immortals  who  linger  among  them  in 
their  works.  Is  not  this  an  object  worthy  of 
your  ambition?  Here  we  are  permitted  to 
converse,  from  day  to  day,  with  the  sages, 
poets,  and  heroes  of  antiquity  ;  "  the  blind  old 
man  of  Scio's  rocky  isle,"  that  prodigy  of 
genius,  whose  birth-place  Avas  Stagira,  whose 
empire  has  been  the  world ;  that  other  prodi- 
gy of  common  sense  who  brought  wisdom 
from  the  skies — the  Divine  Plato ;  the  masters 


CONSISTENCY.  827 

of  the  Porch,  Academy,  and  Lyceum,  are  all 
here.  Here,  too,  we  can  listen  to  the  rapt  vis- 
ions of  the  prophets,  hold  converse  with  apos- 
tles and  martyrs,  and  above  all,  sit  at  the 
feet  of  Him  who  spake  as  never  man  spake. 
Here,  in  a  single  word,  we  are  "let  into  that 
great  communion  of  scholars,  throughout  all 
ages  and  all  nations — ^like  that  more  awful 
communion  of  saints  in  the  Holy  Church  Uni- 
versal— and  feel  a  sympathy  with  departed 
genius,  and  with  the  enlightened  and  the  gift- 
ed minds  of  other  countries,  as  they  appear 
before  us,  in  the  transports  of  a  sort  of  beatific 
vision,  bowing  down  at  the  same  shrines  and 
glowing  with  the  same  holy  love  of  whatever 
is  most  pure,  and  fair,  and  exalted,  and  Divine 
in  human  nature."  Is  there  nothing  in  such 
society  and  such  influences  to  stimulate  our 
minds  to  a  lofty  pitch  ?  Catch  the  spirit  of 
the  place,  imbibe  its  noble  associations,  and 
you  cannot  descend  to  the  little,  the  trifling, 
the  silly,  or  the  coarse.  Every  fibre  of  your 
hearts  would  cry  out  against  it.  When  Bona- 
parte animated  his  troops  in  Egypt,  it  was» 


828  CONSISTENCY. 

enough  to  point  to  the  pyramids,  beneath 
whose  shadows  they  stood,  and  remind  them 
that  "  from  yonder  heights  forty  centu- 
ries look  down  upon  them."  That  thought 
was  enough.  The  same  great  motive  may 
be  applied  to  you.  The  general  assembly  of 
all  the  great,  and  good,  and  learned,  and  glo- 
rious, of  all  ages  and  of  all  climes,  look  down 
upon  you^  and  exhort  you  to  walk  worthy  of 
your  exalted  calling.  Quit  yourselves  like 
men — and  make  this  venerable  seat  of  learn- 
ing a  joy  and  a  praise  in  all  the  earth.  Let 
Truth  be  inscribed  on  its  walls.  Truth  wor- 
shipped in  its  sanctuary,  and  the  Love  of 
Truth  the  inspiration  of  every  heart. 


THE     END, 


pi  17  B  RSI  T  7] 


„«  THE  LAST  DATE 


jT 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


/--• 


